From Across the Great Divide
by Ashwinder
Summary: *This story is now complete.* A post-Hogwarts H/G fic. Strange circumstances draw Harry and Ginny closer together. But are they in danger? Romance, adventure, Monty Python, and tartan boxer shorts abound. No sequel to this is planned at this time. Sorry.
1. Chapter One: Reunion

Chapter One: Reunion ****

From Across the Great Divide

Disclaimer and author's notes: next to none of this is mine. The characters, settings, spells, etc. are J. K. Rowling's, the title is from "Possession" by Sarah McLachlan, the idea for Ginny's career was inspired by Yolanda, the idea for Fred and George's prank was Firebolt909's. The plot probably isn't even original… So what did I do? I typed it up in my own words, and even those came from the dictionary. A big thank you to Firebolt909 and Imogen for their encouragement. Long may the Queens of H/G reign!

Oh, and no Weasleys were harmed during the writing of this fic.

Rating: right now it's PG, but will likely be R before we get to the end…

Chapter One: Reunion

"You know, you haven't danced with me once yet all evening."

Ginny Weasley looked up into a pair of strikingly green eyes. Harry Potter held out a hand and Ginny hesitated slightly before taking it. He was just performing another duty she told herself; he had been doing so all day. As best man at Ron and Hermione's wedding, it had been his role to calm his best friend's nerves, produce the ring at the proper point in the ceremony, and propose a toast to the couple. He had carried out all of these duties admirably, and now it was his lot to dance with the bridesmaid. Ginny allowed him to lead her into the midst of the other couples who were already revolving to a slow song. As Harry put an arm around Ginny's waist and began to circle with her to the music, she mused back on the day.

It had been a long day and a hectic one, filled with all sorts of last minute emergencies and nervousness. Now that it was almost over, everyone could breathe a collective sigh of relief. Harry had summed it up well in his toast earlier at dinner. 

"Almost twelve years ago," he had said, " when Ron and Hermione first met on the Hogwarts Express, no one could possibly imagined that this was in their future. If memory serves, Ron's immediate reaction to Hermione was, 'Whatever house she's in, I hope I'm not in it!'" Harry had paused as the wedding guests laughed, then he had continued, "in our sixth year, I had the misfortune of witnessing first-hand what would become their most famous argument. It was not famous for its subject, since I don't think anyone remembers just exactly what it was, but for its outcome, because in the middle of it all, Ron finally plucked up the courage to actually kiss Hermione, which effectively shut her up." At this, the tips of Ron's ears had turned red and Hermione had pretended to slap Harry with her bouquet, all the while suppressing a smile. Rubbing his arm in mock outrage, Harry had carried on, "strangely enough, from that point on they seemed to argue a lot less, which made life infinitely more pleasant for us all. We've all had a long hard road to travel from that day to this, so I'd like you all to raise your glasses and drink to the happy couple. May the future be filled with as much joy as today has been." And he had raised his glass and drained it.

Harry spoke, startling Ginny out of her reverie. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd been avoiding me."

"I haven't been avoiding you," Ginny lied. In truth, she had been, although if anyone had asked her why, she would not have been able to formulate a coherent response. In the five years since she had left Hogwarts, she had seen Harry on perhaps a handful of occasions, all of them Weasley family events. He kept a very busy schedule in his role as Seeker for the Montrose Magpies. The previous year he had even played for England at the Quidditch World Cup, where England had made it as far as the semi-final. In that match, Harry had come face to face with Viktor Krum, who had beaten him to the Snitch by the narrowest of margins, assuring the Bulgarian victory. In spite of that loss, Harry was lauded in the wizarding world for his Quidditch ability which gave the English team its best showing at the World Cup in recent memory. The fact that he played for a professional team which had a world-wide following only added to his fame, as did his role in defeating Lord Voldemort in Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts.

Ginny could feel the quality of the fabric of Harry's dress robes, and it made her feel very unsophisticated. She thought of the articles that appeared regularly in _Witch Weekly_, articles which associated Harry with a variety of glamorous witches. She looked ruefully down at her bridesmaid's dress, as she remembered trying it on in a Muggle bridal shop. "I look like a peach and almond gateau," she had cried in dismay. 

"Nonsense," Hermione had replied, " you look quite lovely in that. Once it's been fitted properly it will be perfect. Besides," she had added, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, "it's Muggle tradition for the bridesmaids to look like some sort of pastry shop confection. It fits right into the theme of the bride dressing as a meringue." Ginny had giggled then. Although the dress Hermione had chosen was quite understated and she looked absolutely stunning in it, there was no way around the fact that Muggle wedding gowns did indeed look like meringues.

Ginny knew she should be making interesting conversation, so she cast about for a topic. Looking up at Harry, she finally settled on, "so, what exciting plans do you have for your holidays, now that the Quidditch season is over?" 

"For once, I have none whatsoever," came the answer. "I thought I'd spend my holiday doing nothing but relaxing. This will be the first summer in a few years I haven't over-committed myself to one thing or another." One thing or another had usually been exhibition matches and their attendant parties in one country or another, Ginny knew.

Ginny could see Ron and Hermione snogging obliviously on the dance floor, and she sighed wistfully. But she knew she needed to answer Harry. "Where are you going to spend your holiday doing nothing, then?"

"I haven't decided yet. When you're planning on doing nothing at all, it usually doesn't matter much where you're doing it, does it?"

"No, I suppose not. I wouldn't know what it's like to just do nothing. Or maybe I would. My job at the Ministry has to be about the most boring drudgery I've ever experienced outside Professor Binns' classes."

"You're with the Improper Use of Magic Office, aren't you?"

"Yes, and I hate it. There's really very little to do but wait around until someone misuses magic, and then send them a nasty owl. They keep me at the office until all hours of the night, too."

"I suppose there has to be someone in the office on a 24 hour basis. I got an owl from them once, and it was definitely outside normal office hours. So much for bureaucrats having it easy."

"My boss, Mafalda Hopkirk, has it easy. She gets to keep the hours she wants. It's peons like me who have to drudge." Ginny nodded towards a short witch with long brown hair who was dancing with Percy. "I can't believe she turned up as Percy's date. She's got to be at least 5 years older than he is." 

Harry looked over to where Percy could be seen dancing very stiffly with Mafalda. "It doesn't look like he's having a very good time," he commented, "but she seems to be enjoying herself. I wonder who asked who to the wedding."

"I wouldn't be surprised at all if she asked him. I think she fancies him," Ginny noted with a laugh.

The song they were dancing to ended. "Look," Ginny said, "Ron and Hermione are getting ready to leave."

They joined the crowd of family and friends who were throwing wizarding confetti, which hung sparkling in the air, and wishing the couple well. Hermione, as a Muggle-born witch, had chosen to mix Muggle and wizarding traditions when she planned her wedding. She had invited a number of family members who had no idea the wizarding world existed, and as a result, a good many Unobtrusive Charms had had to be cast so that Hermione's unsuspecting family members would not notice anything out of the ordinary. If any of them did notice anything, they would likely attribute any strange occurrence to too much drink. Ron and Hermione went toward the entrance of the hall that had been rented for the occasion to say a last goodbye, before going outside to Disapparate unseen.

"You know, at Muggle weddings, the married couple leaves in an autobomile," said Arthur Weasley, knowingly.

"Yes, and it's a good thing Hermione decided not to go with Muggle tradition and use one, or who knows what Fred and George would have done to it," replied Molly.

"Oh, come on, Mum, we're not that bad," complained Fred.

"We couldn't be as bad as we'd like, Ron refused to tell us where they were spending their wedding night. I can't imagine why," put in George.

"Smart move, "Ginny thought. 

As Ron was going through the door, Hermione suddenly turned and tossed her bouquet toward Ginny. 

"Catch, Ginny!"

Surprised, Ginny held out her arms and caught the bouquet. Some sort of purplish viscous liquid shot out of the bouquet and onto her face and dress. 

"Hermione," she spluttered, "just what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" But it was too late; Hermione had already followed Ron out the door. Ginny opened her eyes to see Fred and George falling over each other with laughter.

Ginny turned on them. "Honestly, will you two ever grow up?"

"Sorry, Gin," said Fred, once he'd got his laughter under control. "We didn't know she was going to chuck it at you."

"Yeah," agreed George, "that was meant for Hermione once she'd once she'd got wherever she was going. Little surprise for Ron, and all."

"I believe," put in Arthur, who was decidedly in his element, "it's a Muggle tradition for the bride to toss her bouquet before leaving the wedding reception. The girl who catches it is the next to marry."

Ginny blushed, although no one could tell with her face covered in purplish goo.

"Don't worry, Gin," said Fred. "It should come right off. We didn't want to bee too hard on Ron, it being his wedding night."

"Allow me," came a voice behind her. She turned and there was Harry, his eyes alight with suppressed laughter. In his hand was a handkerchief, which he used to gently wipe the mess from her face. But he didn't stop there. He continued onto her neck and the creamy skin above the neckline of her dress. Ginny could not help but wonder what would have happened if her dress had had a deeper _décolleté_. Would he have dared perform such a task in front of her family then?

"There, much better now. Sorry, there's not much to be done about your dress though."

Ginny looked down. "Oh, well, now I look like a peach and almond gateau with blueberry _coulis_."

"Actually, that was blueberry _coulis_…" George was still hovering nearby, holding back his laughter. "And it had an aphrodisiac in it…"

"A _what_?" Ginny exclaimed, shocked.

"An aphrodisiac," returned George. "Surely you know what that is. But don't worry, since neither of you actually consumed any, you should be all right. You see what was supposed to happen was…" George paused here and contemplated his sister, then he whispered something to Harry which made Harry get rather red in the face. "It was all in good fun, really," George concluded.

Ginny felt extremely grateful that none of the rest of the family was a party to this conversation, though doubtless Fred could figure out what George was saying. Her other brothers had gone to get drinks or find their dates. Her father had dragged her mother off to the dance floor to stop Molly from hexing the twins.

Harry turned to Ginny. "As long as there seems to be no danger of me dragging you off to the corner and ravishing you, I suggest we get something to drink." He led Ginny over to a table and fetched them each a glass of wine from the bar. They sat sipping their wine and making small talk about the eventful day. Then Harry asked her to dance again. She went back to the dance floor with him and slipped into his arms. In the future, Ginny would never remember just how long they swayed together to the music. Suddenly, it seemed, Harry spoke. "It looks as if the party's breaking up."

Ginny realised that at some point they had slipped entirely into each others' arms: her body was pressed to his, and she had laid her head on his shoulder. Ginny quickly disengaged herself, as a blush traitorously stained her cheeks. She thought she saw disappointment flash across Harry's expression, but it was too fleeting for her to be certain she hadn't imagined it.

"I should be off then, too. It's been a long day, she said to cover the awkward moment.

"Wait, let me say my good-byes, and I'll see you home."

"You really don't have to do that. I'll just Disapparate home. It's only Hogsmeade, not some seedy part of London."

"Please, I insist. I haven't been to Hogsmeade in ages." Harry smiled winningly. How could Ginny refuse that or the deep green eyes that flashed at her? She felt something flutter in her stomach that she was sure had nothing to do with the quantity of wine she'd consumed. 

"All right, then."

They said their goodbyes and made ready to Disapparate. "Let's just Disapparate into the centre of the village. We can walk from there," said Ginny.

They appeared with a _pop_ near the Three Broomsticks. The village of Hogsmeade was quiet, as most of its residents were in bed at this late hour; even the pub seemed have finished its nights' business. Ginny led Harry companionably along the road that ran past Dervish and Banges and out of the village. The summer night was warm and the scent of wildflowers wafted on the air. On the outskirts of the village, set away from the other houses, they came upon a small cottage. The moon, nearing its full, glinted off the whitewashed walls and diamond-paned windows, and gave off enough light to reveal carefully tended flower borders, riotous with summer colour.

Ginny stopped in front of the door and turned to face Harry. "Here we are, then." Her eyes met his, and she stood transfixed beneath his gaze. The air around them seemed to take on an electrical charge. Ginny felt it flow through her as Harry took both her hands in his. He leaned closer almost imperceptively, but then they both froze. The sound of breaking glass came from inside the cottage. 

Drawing her wand, Ginny muttered the incantation which would break the Locking Charm on the front door. The door swung open, and they had just enough time to see another person in the half-light of the living room, before the intruder Disapparated. They entered the room, and Ginny's eyes widened in shock as she saw it was in shambles. The cushions had been torn from the sofa and armchairs, drawers had been upended onto the floor, and clothes were strewn on the floor in a trail leading to the bedroom. Ginny weakly sank down into the nearest armchair, even though its seat cushion was three feet away on the floor, at a loss for words.

Harry finally broke the silence. "Ginny, a woman living alone like you do ought to have Anti-Apparation wards on her house."

Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat before replying. "That's just the thing, Harry. There _were_ Anti-Apparation wards on this house."


	2. Chapter Two: The Morning After

Chapter 2:

Disclaimer: see first chapter… Although Ginny's cottage is mine: I'd love to live in a house like that. 

Thank you to my reviewers, and to Imogen and Firebolt909 for their beta-help. There is an obscure Monty Python reference in this chapter. Twenty House Points to anyone who catches it.

****

Chapter Two: The Morning After

Harry furrowed his brow in concern. "Ginny, it takes some pretty powerful Dark Magic to break through Anti-Apparition wards." Until Ginny's sixth year, it was taken for granted that nothing could break through this type of magical protection, but Lord Voldemort and his minions had proved everyone wrong one fateful day and besieged Hogwarts castle. Ginny shuddered. Nobody liked to be reminded of those dark times. She could easily imagine those memories were harder for Harry to think about than they were for most people.

"Anyway, you're going to have to cast your wards again. Once they've been broken, they're useless. Do you have any idea who could have done this?"

"None at all. I don't think ordinary thieves would go to such trouble for anything I might own. It wouldn't be worth the bother breaking through the wards." Ginny began to shiver, as the shock of what had happened began to wear off and reality sunk in. "Listen, Harry," she said shakily, "don't take this the wrong way, but I'm exhausted, and I have a huge mess to clean up. Bed sounds mighty tempting at the moment, if I can manage to find my bedroom, that is."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't stay here. I don't have a guest room."

"I'm not leaving," Harry said firmly. "What if whoever did this decides to come finish the job? There's something strange going on here, and you won't be safe here alone until you've got the wards back in place. Doing that spell tonight is out of the question, tired as we both are. If we can get your sofa put back together, I can kip there."

Ginny relented. She didn't feel up to arguing.

In the end, with Harry's help, she put the living room back in order, using a few handy housekeeping spells. It seemed senseless to leave it until morning. She then Summoned a blanket and pillow for Harry. "Sorry, I don't have any sort of pyjamas to lend you. Nothing of mine would fit."

Harry grinned. "Damn, I was hoping you'd have something nice and lacy I could borrow." 

Ginny could not help giggling at the mental image of Harry in one of her night dresses. Not that any of them would fit. Harry seemed taller than she remembered him. This was likely a trick of the imagination caused by their not seeing each other very often in the past six years. His frame, while still wiry, had certainly filled out since their Hogwarts days, and perhaps this explained her impression. Right now he seemed to tower over her, even though she knew he wasn't even as tall as Ron. 

She murmured a good night to Harry and retreated to her bedroom. It was as much a disaster as the living room had been. Her clothes and undergarments were strewn over the floor, and the sheets had been ripped from her bed. She sighed resignedly, and cast the necessary charms to send her clothes back to the wardrobe and make up the bed. She undressed and climbed into bed, hoping her exhaustion would send her quickly to sleep so she would not have to consider the implications of what had transpired here tonight. 

**

****

The smell of bacon frying woke Ginny the next morning. She stirred but did not rise immediately, loath to leave the comfort of her bed and face the morning. She had spent several hours tossing and turning, trying desperately to clear her mind so that she could drift off, but although sleep had eluded her, she was no closer to understanding why anyone would want to break into her house. She owned nothing of any great value, she had no enemies that she knew of, no jealous ex-boyfriend, nothing. She finally opened her eyes and sat up. From the angle of the sun on her wall, she concluded that the morning was already more than half gone. She reached over to her bedside table and looked at her watch. The hand was pointing to "time to rise and shine".

There came a soft knock at her door. She turned to see Harry standing in the doorway, already dressed in the same robes he'd worn to the wedding. His hair, which yesterday he had somehow managed to tame into some semblance of order for the occasion, was now sticking out in all directions, making him look younger and reminding her of the boy she had known at school. Her hand rose to smooth her own hair. She knew it was tousled from sleep, and she was certain she must have dark circles under her eyes; in short, she was sure she looked a fright. 

"I've got some breakfast started," Harry informed her. "Would you rather have tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please. I'll need it this morning. I can make it, if you like. Lucky for you, I've been shopping or else you might not have found anything to work with."

Ginny reached for her dressing gown, and followed Harry out to the kitchen. The bacon was almost done. He'd also scrambled some eggs and made toast. Ginny waved her wand at the coffee maker which began to percolate, filling the air with an exhilarating aroma. "Mmmm," said Ginny, "just the smell is enough to help me wake up."

"How did you sleep?" Harry asked as he filled two plates and set them on the table.

"Not well, actually. I couldn't stop thinking about what happened. You?"

"I've had better nights. Not that your sofa isn't comfortable, but I kept expecting some dark wizard or other to suddenly turn up. Do you have any idea who could have done this?"

"No more than I did last night. I kept asking myself that very question and came to the conclusion that someone must have got the wrong house. I have no enemies that I know of and nothing worth stealing."

"Have you missed anything?" Harry asked, as Ginny got up to pour two mugs of hot coffee. 

Ginny paused to stir some milk into her mug. "No, nothing's missing."

"Could this have anything to do with your job at the Ministry?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, I'm just grasping at straws."

"I can't see how it could. If anyone wanted to go after a Weasley at the Ministry for whatever reason, why would they choose me of all people? It's not as if I'm the only one; there are six of us to choose from." It wasn't common knowledge, but Harry knew that the twins and Ron only worked at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes as a cover for their actual jobs with the Department of Mysteries. "Why would they target me, when my father and brothers are all have higher positions than I do?"

"Maybe you were the easiest to get to for that reason. Or maybe you sent one nasty owl too many."

"If I did, I can't for the life of me think who I might have sent it to. I'll have to have a look tomorrow when I go into the office, see if I recognise any names on the list." Ginny cleared the table and waved her wand at the dishes in the sink. She poured more coffee. "I should also have a look to see if anyone got an owl last night concerning the break-in here. Dark magic like what was used here is definitely a misuse of magic and should have turned up on the detectors."

"Shouldn't you go in today and have a look?"

"I can't. No one goes in on Sunday. If anything happens over Sunday, it's allowed to slide for one day. The owl goes out on Monday. I should be thankful for small favours. Someone might get the bright idea we should work over Sunday, and I'd lose the one day a week I'm assured a day off."

"Don't you have a key to get in? You could just pop in and have a look, try to get this cleared up."

Ginny stifled the urge to laugh. Harry was obviously ignorant of the often illogical workings of the Ministry. She was used to them, though, having been raised in a Ministry family. "No, you can't get in with a key. It's never as straightforward as that. I imagine it's a question of security, but Ms. Hopkirk is the only person who can open the office. It takes some special spell to open the door, and she's the only one who knows it. I can lock things up again, but I can't get in without her. And I wouldn't dream of bothering her on a Sunday! The last person who did something like that found themselves hexed into the next week."

"In the meantime, don't you think we should tell your family what's happened?"

"Oh, please, let's wait until we know what this is about. They're just going to get worried and tell me I should be living at home. Mum especially. She can't get it through her head that I'm grown up and able support myself. She'll have a fit when she finds out."

"Well, we might at least tell Fred and George. Maybe they'll know something constructive. I'd say we tell Ron, but he's on his honeymoon…"

"No," cried Ginny. "Not Fred and George! The last thing I need is to have them find out you spent the night here, even if it was on the sofa, after all that business about aphrodisiacs." 

At that moment there was a knock at the front door. Ginny moved to answer it. Harry followed her into the living room, as Ginny opened the door, and Molly Weasley walked in. "Mum, what brings you by?"

Molly didn't answer. She was standing in the living room, still as a statue, her mouth pursed into a line reminiscent of Professor McGonagall, fixing her gaze on Harry, who was all too obviously dressed in the same robes he had worn the previous evening. She looked as if the first words out of her mouth might very well be "scarlet woman". Ginny opened her mouth and almost said, "it's not what you think, Mum." She could have kicked herself for even thinking it. She was an adult, 22 years old. She didn't owe any explanations to her mother.

"It's not what you think, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, breaking the awkward silence.

"Well, what else am I to think?" answered Molly, her voice dangerously calm. 

This was true. Ginny noticed belatedly that Harry had folded the blanket she had lent him neatly, placing the pillow on top of it. Then she realised another thing: she was still in her dressing gown. Through the open door to the kitchen, two mugs could be seen cosily keeping each other company on the table. There was really no way to prove he had slept on the sofa. Ginny could have cursed his thoughtfulness in tidying up and her own laziness in not getting dressed right away, but another thought occurred to her. If somehow they managed to convince Molly that nothing untoward had happened, they would have to tell her the truth of the matter, that someone had broken into the cottage. That was just as bad, if not worse. Before Harry had a chance to say anything more, Ginny broke in, "That's right, Mum. We've just spent the night shagging each other senseless. We'd like to get back at it as soon as possible, if you wouldn't mind."

Molly whirled around and faced her daughter. "Well, I never, in all my born days…" Her low tone belied her anger; it was somehow worse than if she had shouted. "Virginia Weasley, this will be the death of your father when he finds out about this…"

Ginny steeled herself, stared straight into her mother's brown eyes, and replied, "There's no need to tell him, then, is there?"

Mother and daughter looked daggers at each other. Finally Molly grated out, "I'll just leave you two to it, then, shall I?" She turned and left; she'd never even got as far as stating the reason she had come.

Ginny let out a long breath and sank onto the sofa. She couldn't bear to look at Harry, but at last he broke the silence. "Why did you tell her that, Ginny?"

Reluctantly, Ginny raised her eyes to meet his. "At the time, it seemed better to let her think what she wanted, than to tell her the truth. I think I may have carried it a bit far, though. Oh, God…" She broke off and buried her face in her hands. She could feel the backs of her eyes begin to burn, as the reality of the situation sunk in. She felt the sofa cushion next to her sag, as Harry sat down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I've really bolloxed things up now, haven't I?" she said through her hands. "You see, things have been, well, complicated between my mother and me for a while now. And now I've gone and made it much worse. But really, she should know me better than to think I just randomly bring men back to my house…"

Harry took her wrists and brought her hands away from her face. She caught her breath, as he cupped a hand under her chin and brought her face up to meet his gaze. Gently he raised a thumb and wiped away a traitorous tear that had begun to slide down her cheek. "Maybe," Harry said quietly, "she was thinking more of my reputation than yours." 

This was likely true, Ginny realised. Her mother read _Witch Weekly_ almost religiously, although Molly claimed it was just for the recipes. If half the articles that had appeared on Harry were to be believed, he was a notorious playboy. Unfortunately, Molly seemed to have learned nothing from the Rita Skeeter fiasco several years ago and subscribed to the idea that if something appeared in print it must be true.

The silence stretched out between them, as Ginny stared into Harry's eyes. God, they were so green, she thought. A girl could drown in them. Finally, she was able to find her voice. "If you don't mind, I think I'd like to get dressed now, before anyone else turns up and starts jumping to conclusions." And she escaped into the bathroom.

She emerged from the shower, feeling somewhat refreshed, but not better about the scene with Molly. She hated the idea of anyone perceiving her as weak, and now she had managed to appear just so, not only in front of her mother, but in front of Harry, as well. She quickly performed a _dessicatum_ spell to dry her bright hair, brushed it and tied it back. Tying on her dressing gown, she moved to the bedroom, calling out to Harry, "the bathroom's free, if you'd like a shower. I laid out a towel for you."

"Think I will, thanks."

Ginny heard the water running in the bathroom not long afterwards, as she chose a pair of old shorts and a T-shirt to wear. It was Sunday, her free day, and normally she would have been out already, puttering around her flower beds. She had let the weeds go too long, and she knew she needed to get at them. Suddenly, she remembered why her mother had come over that morning. She had promised Molly she'd divide some of her flowers which would bloom later in the summer and give Molly the divisions for her own garden. The thought did not improve her mood.

She went out to the living room and waited for Harry to finish in the bathroom. He joined her not long after, having showered and removed the beard stubble from his face with an _imberbus_ spell. He had had no choice but to put on his creased dress robes once more, however. Ginny drew out her wand, pointed it at Harry's robes and muttered _repasso_. Immediately, they appeared freshly ironed. "There, that's much better," she said.

"I've been going over the situation in my mind," Harry began, "and I can't help but find it extremely odd. You say nothing's missing, and yet someone went to an incredible amount of bother to break in here. I have to draw the conclusion that this was meant as some kind of warning. It must have been known you'd be out most of the day yesterday, but yet whoever broke in here waited until late at night to do so. It's as if they wanted to be caught. Or to catch you alone."

Ginny caught her breath. "But why? That's what I don't understand. I haven't _done _anything to anyone. And it's not as if I hold an influential position at the Ministry…"

"At the moment the most important thing is to put the wards back on this house. Make it harder for them to come back. Let's get it done. I can give you a hand if you like."

They went out through the kitchen into the garden. In one corner was a bed of magical plants that were useful in making potions, but the bulk of the garden was purely decorative. Oriental poppies were just beginning to put their spectacular but short-lived show. There were irises, campanulas and lupines in bloom. Peonies and roses scented the air. There was a seemingly infinite variety of other plants that had not yet reached their flowering stage but would assure colour throughout the rest of the summer and into autumn. 

"Ginny," said Harry, sounding rather impressed, "did you plant all this yourself?"

"No," replied Ginny, "some of it was here when I moved in. I've just added to it."

"It looks like an awful lot of work." Harry had been enlisted to do the yard work often enough in his childhood to understand what an undertaking a large-scale flower garden could be.

"If you do it Muggle-fashion, perhaps, but if you use magic, it's not so bad. I should do some weeding today. I usually get things done on Sundays."

"I'll help you cast the wards, and then I'll let you get to it, then."

Casting protective wards was strenuous business. It required a great deal of concentration and consumed a lot of magical energy. If it could be accomplished by more than one witch or wizard, the process was a lot less tiring and the resulting wards were stronger. Harry moved to one side of the garden and Ginny to the opposite side. Both raised their wands and on the count of three cried, "_Protegio!"_ It was then necessary for them to focus their energy for five full minutes until the spell was complete. There was a brief scintillation in the air which signalled that the wards were back in place.

"There," said Ginny at last, sinking down onto a bench, "that should do it."

Harry joined her on the bench. "Are you going to be all right here by yourself?" he asked.

"I should be. With the protection back up anyone would have a hard time getting back in."

"I could stay if you like."

"Taken a liking to my sofa, have you? No, I'll be okay until tomorrow, and then I can have a look at the files in the office and see if there are any clues to be found there."

"I'll come in to the Ministry tomorrow and see what you've found."

"Technically, I'm not supposed to show our files to anyone from outside the Ministry. You're going to have to be discreet."

"Then I'll come on the pretext of taking you to lunch."

"It'll be a late lunch. Ms. Hopkirk's lunch hour is from 1 to 2, but she usually never bothers to come back in until 3. I'll have to stay in the office during that time. But if you come in around 1:30, we should have plenty of time to have a look at the files."

"I'll do that then." Suddenly, Harry moved closer to her on the bench. "Before I leave, there's a bit of unfinished business to attend to. I meant to do this last night, but we were interrupted." He took Ginny's face in his hands. She barely had the time to gasp when his lips met hers. The kiss was soft at first but quickly deepened, as Harry threaded his fingers through her hair. An indeterminate amount of time passed, but at last Harry broke off the kiss. 

"Until tomorrow, then." Quickly, he brushed his lips against her forehead and rose to leave. Ginny was speechless as she watched him walk around to the front of the house, where he would be able to Disapparate from the road. She had no idea how long she sat there, waiting for her breathing to return to normal and her heart-rate to slow. It seemed to her the clock had turned back ten years, back to the time when she had had an embarrassing crush on Harry. She cringed inwardly, thinking about the blushes and clumsiness she had experienced whenever he was around. She knew that it wouldn't take much for all that to start over again… if indeed it hadn't already. She swore to herself. Just what right did Harry Potter have to possess the power to turn her into a quivering puddle of blancmangewhenever he was around?

A/N: Chapter 3 may take a little longer to get out. I have the feeling it will be long and involve some research. In the meantime, please review, and let me know what you think…


	3. Chapter Three: Muggle London

Chapter Three: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

Disclaimer: see chapter one.

Thanks to my reviewers. You really are an encouragement to me. Thank you also to Imogen and Firebolt909 for beta-help.

****

Chapter Three: Muggle London

Harry left his South Kensington flat the following day and walked toward Old Brompton Road and the tube station. He might have Apparated over to the Ministry, but today he wanted some time to think: one thing about most Muggle forms of transportation, they afforded time for thinking. Today, he was dressed as a Muggle, as well, in beige chinos and an emerald green cotton jumper. He enjoyed the anonymity of blending in with the crowd of Londoners on their lunch hour. Once he'd entered Diagon Alley, he would no longer be able to pass unnoticed.

He took a seat on the Underground and began to relive the previous weekend for what seemed the hundredth time. In his mind, the most surprising event had occurred at Ron and Hermione's wedding. As he had stood next to his best friend, the processional had begun, and he had had his first glimpse of Ginny as she followed Hermione down the aisle. He remembered being amazed at how stunning she had looked in her gown, whose pale peach colour had perfectly complimented her complexion, causing her to fairly glow. Her hair had been caught up in a simple twist with sprigs of baby's breath tucked into it, and he had found the manner in which it caught the candlelight fascinating. She had looked up with a shy smile, and his throat had gone dry. It had been all he could do to pay heed to the ceremony after that. He had snapped to attention just in time to hand the ring to Ron. Then he had looked back over at Ginny standing serenely next to Hermione and had made the decision to pursue her. And now he couldn't get her out of his mind.

And then there was the matter of the break-in. Under the best of circumstances, such an occurrence would have given him a bad feeling, but in this case, his instincts told him that there was more to this than met the eye. He sighed. He hoped Ginny had turned up something useful at her office.

The train slowed, and Harry realised it had reached Leicester Square. He disembarked and moved along with the crowd up to Charing Cross Road. As he headed towards the Leaky Cauldron, he was reminded of making a similar trip past these same shops in the company of Hagrid. It seemed a long time ago to him. He entered the Leaky Cauldron, nodded to Tom, but refused the offer of a drink. Instead, he went to the back of the shabby pub and entered Diagon Alley. He moved quickly through the crowd of wizards and witches in the street, keeping his head down and avoiding meeting anyone's glance, as he headed for the Ministry. Here in Diagon Alley, he stood out, as much for his Muggle dress as for his famous face, but he did not wish to stop to talk to anyone today. He had business to attend to.

As he went up the steps to the Ministry building, Harry noticed a tall man with a moustache and a bowler hat who seemed to be doing an exaggerated sort of goose step. His resemblance to Nearly-Headless Nick was uncanny. Harry shook his head. It takes all kinds, he thought to himself. Upon entering the building he noticed that a few new departments had been added to the directory. "Why do they need a department for silly walks?" he wondered. He'd never understand the logic, or rather lack thereof, of the Ministry of Magic. 

He located the Improper Use of Magic Office in the directory and set off along the maze of corridors. He found the office and entered quietly. Ginny was sitting behind a desk writing something on a parchment. She did not seem to have heard him come in. He stood for a moment, relieved to see that she had safely passed the night alone in her cottage, and watched the play of colours in her hair as it caught the overhead light. He remembered how soft and pliant her lips had been when he had kissed her the previous day in her garden among the flowers. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Hullo, Ginny."

Ginny looked up with a bit of a start. "Oh, Harry, I didn't hear you come in."

Harry looked around the office. On one wall could be seen several large sheets of glass, rather like mirrors. Along the opposite wall was a bank of filing cabinets that reminded Harry of the ones in Argus Filch's office. He looked back at Ginny. "Just got here. So have you found anything?"

"Yes, actually, I did. I spent a good bit of the morning going through the files for the last six months. Most of it was the same old thing. It's usually the same wizards who cause all the trouble, mostly wizards who live alongside Muggles and get noticed, or underage wizards doing magic outside school. But that won't be a problem for a few weeks yet, when Hogwarts lets out. Summer's usually our busiest time of year; that or the Christmas holidays." Ginny took several files from her desk and handed them to Harry. "Have a look at these and see if you recognise any names. I definitely recognised one name and another seemed familiar."

Harry began paging through the reports. He stopped at one which had been dated the previous month. "Yes… Vincent Crabbe, one of Draco Malfoy's former cronies." In Harry's seventh year, Draco had shocked everyone, most especially his own father, by refusing to join the Death Eaters, and many of his fellow Slytherins had turned on him, making what had remained of his life very miserable. Lucius Malfoy was rumoured to have used the Killing Curse on his own son during the final confrontation with Lord Voldemort, but Harry hadn't witnessed it. No one he knew had.

"Yes, that was the one I recognised."

"And here's another, Millicent Bulstrode."

"I don't recall her, although the name rang a bell."

"She was in my year, Slytherin. Rather hard to miss, very tall and, well, solid. Looked more like a boy than a girl, really. You should ask Hermione about her sometime."

"There was one other strange thing I noticed." Ginny indicated the sheets of glass on the wall. "These are Dark Magic Detectors. Alastor Moody made a few improvements to the Foe-Glass, so that it could detect the use of Dark Magic over almost any distance. If someone tries to perform any illegal spell anywhere within the Ministry's jurisdiction, it shows up in the glass. There's a magic quill that makes a record of anything that comes up in the glass."

"So when your wards were broken over the weekend, it should have been recorded."

"Exactly. But there was no record of it this morning."

"Was anyone in the office over the weekend?"

"Yes, on Saturday, Eleanor Branstone would have been in. She's new, just hired on, but we needed someone here, since both Ms. Hopkirk and I were at the wedding."

"Well, now, isn't this cosy!" Ginny and Harry turned to see who had spoken. Mafalda Hopkirk was standing in the doorway with what looked suspiciously like a smirk on her face. "Not giving out any classified information, I hope, Ginny."

"Er, no, Ms. Hopkirk. Harry was just taking me to lunch." 

Mafalda's smirk grew even deeper at this. "Then you'd best be off, hadn't you? Take your time, now…"

Ginny took Harry's arm. "Let's go."

Once they'd got out of ear-shot of Ginny's office, she exclaimed, "Of all the days for her to come back from her lunch hour on time! We didn't have time to find out much at all. On top of that she's one of the biggest gossips in the Ministry. It'll be all over by the time we get back that you and I are dating!" I occurred to Harry that Ginny left unsaid what she must surely have been thinking: that her family would also hear about this, after the scene with Molly the previous day. The thought hung in the air between them as they made their way into Diagon Alley. 

"What do you want to do about lunch?" Harry asked at last.

"I wasn't expecting to actually have a normal lunch hour, since I almost never do. I ate a sandwich at my desk before you came in."

"Then let's do something a little mad and eat ice cream for lunch… my lunch anyway."

Ginny agreed to this, and soon they were seated outside Florian Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour with decadent-looking heaps of chocolate and raspberry ice cream in front of them. Just as they were finishing, a shadow was suddenly cast across their table. Harry looked up to see a young witch wearing garishly coloured robes smiling at him. There was something familiar about her; he thought he remembered the dark brown hair, but the face was too heavily made up to be completely sure.

"Don't you remember me, Harry?" she purred. 

"Erm….," he hesitated. "Is it Mandy Brocklehurst?"

"You do remember!" she said happily and proceeded to sit down uninvited. She scooted her chair closer to Harry.

"You know Ginny Weasley, don't you?" Harry put in.

Mandy gave Ginny a passing glance, acting as if Ginny was something she might scrape off the bottom of her shoe. "Oh, yes, you weren't in our year, though, were you?" Mandy turned her attention back to Harry. "So how's our national Quidditch hero?" she asked, laying her hand on his thigh. 

It seemed to Harry as if the day had turned uncommonly warm. He cleared his throat. "In a bit of a hurry, actually, sorry."

Mandy looked disappointed. "In that case I won't keep you. But do send me an owl sometime. I'd love for us to … get together." She said these last two words in a voice dripping with promise. Then she got up and sashayed off.

Harry let out his breath; he hadn't realised he'd been holding it. He looked over at Ginny and saw her staring at him in a none-too-friendly manner. Suddenly, the warm day seemed about ten degrees cooler. He swallowed, wondering what tack he should take.

"Ginny, do you know where I live?"

Whatever she'd been expecting him to say, this was obviously not it. That much was evident in her expression. "Erm… no."

"I have a flat in South Kensington. In Muggle London," he emphasised. "Would you like to know why?"

She still looked confused as to where all this was leading. "All right. Tell me."

"Because in Muggle London no one knows who I am. I can blend in with everyone else. I don't have _Witch Weekly_ photographers dogging my every step, and I don't have strange women proposition me."

"Oh." That seemed to be all she could get out.

"I don't come to Diagon Alley any more often than I have to. You realise, don't you, that the majority of those _Witch Weekly_ stories aren't true?"

"But they're usually accompanied by a picture…" Evidently she had believed the stories, even as her mother did. Harry sighed.

"Yes, they are. There's always some small kernel of truth to those articles. Take today, for instance. Had there been a photographer around to snap a picture, there almost certainly would have been something in next week's edition about me dating Mandy, being engaged to Mandy, running off on holiday to Majorca with Mandy… But you just witnessed what actually happened."

"_Nothing_ actually happened."

"That's right." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "And if no article appears linking Mandy and me, there could easily be one about _you_ and me. Will you be able to handle that when it happens?"

"When it happens?"

"It _will_ happen, trust me. If you and I are to be friends and be seen out in public like this, it will eventually be in the press. Your mother will see it. Can you deal with that?"

She hesitated, as if weighing her reply. Finally she said, "Yes, I think I can. As it is, it will be all over the Ministry by the end of the day. You and I will know the truth of the matter. I would hope anyone who knows me would know the truth." Her eyes suddenly became round. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she gasped. "I've just realised I haven't accorded you the same courtesy. It's just seeing those articles week after week, having lost contact with you… There came a point when I didn't know what to believe."

Harry reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "As long as we're being perfectly honest…" He hesitated here. He wasn't sure he was exactly comfortable telling her this, but then he forged ahead. "I won't lie to you, Ginny, and say I've never succumbed to temptation. I did a few times in the beginning, but eventually I realised it was all meaningless. None of those women wanted anything more than a piece of me… money, a piece of fame…"

"A piece of arse…"

Harry smiled grimly. "To put it bluntly, yes. But once I woke up to that fact, that sort of temptation became much easier to resist." He looked down and noticed he was still holding her hand. "Shall we be off? If we sit here much longer, you will most certainly be in next week's edition."

They rose to leave. "I wish I didn't have to go back to the office so soon," Ginny said.

"Then don't. You told me your boss skives off often enough, and she did tell us to take our time. Will you be in a lot of trouble if you come back late?"

"I doubt I really will be. No one wants to work in that office, so I can't really be fired. I'd be too hard to replace."

"Would you mind if we got out of Diagon Alley and went into Muggle London? Less chance of being recognised that way."

"We can do that." Ginny looked down at the robes she had worn into the Ministry that morning. "I'm not quite dressed the part, though. Just give me a minute." She took out her wand and transfigured her robes into a simple summer dress. Harry thought this was a definite improvement over the long robes she had been wearing; the summer dress showed more leg.

They set off down Diagon Alley and left through the Leaky Cauldron. Out on Charing Cross Road, Ginny paused. "Harry, can we have a look in here?" She indicated the record shop next to the Leaky Cauldron. "I like to pop in for a look every so often, and see what they've got."

"I didn't know you liked Muggle music."

"Oh, I have since Hogwarts. One of the girls in my year had quite a collection, along with a CD player that had been charmed to work by magic, instead of electricity. I've been looking for some of the CDs she had for ages."

"Do you have a CD player that works in Hogsmeade?"

"You know my dad, he can't resist fiddling around with Muggle things. When I told him about my friend, he had to go out and find himself a CD player to charm. When he'd got it to work, he gave it to me for my birthday a few years ago."

"If you want to look at CDs, there's a better place to go than this. Come on, it's not that far."

Harry took her hand and led her to the corner and on across Charing Cross Road. Soon they were walking past the bustling shops of Oxford Street. There were many types of expensive-looking goods on display in the shop windows, but Ginny didn't seem very interested. In the middle of a block, they came to a building marked HMV. As Harry held the door for Ginny to go in, he thought he saw someone dressed in wizard robes out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned for a better look, he could see nothing unusual.

Ginny gasped in delight when she saw the selection of music available. The shabby little record shop next to the Leaky Cauldron was nothing compared to this. She moved off and began to look through the racks of CDs. "I've been looking for these for ages," she said at last, her brown eyes shining with delight. She showed him two CDs, neither of them anything recent, but then Harry supposed this was music she had listened to at Hogwarts with her dorm-mates. 

Harry pointed to one of the CDs. "Oasis, yeah they're good, I know them. I've never heard of the other."

"Oh, she's not known very well here. She's a Canadian singer. One of my dorm-mates had a cousin in Canada who had sent her this one. It's really good."

Harry looked at the title. "_Fumbling Towards Ecstasy_?" he said, arching a brow. "Sounds interesting." Suddenly, Harry looked around again. He was sure he had seen the wizard again from the corner of his eye. Not wanting to alarm Ginny, he said, "It's getting late. Perhaps you should pay for those, and we'll get you back to work before you really get into trouble."

Ginny's face fell. "Sod it, I don't have any Muggle money on me. I wasn't expecting to leave Diagon Alley today."

"I've got some. I'll pay for them." Then he quickly added, as he saw Ginny open her mouth to protest, "you can pay me back in Sickles."

As they waited to pay for their purchases, Harry was sure he saw the wizard waiting outside by the doorway. Harry couldn't see the wizard's face, since he was facing away from the interior of the shop, but he could see that the wizard was massive: both tall and large. "Ginny," Harry said in a low voice after they had left the cash, "there's a strange wizard outside the shop by the way out. He must have some sort of Unobtrusive spell on him, because the Muggles are just passing him by without a second glance. This is the third time I've seen him now, and unless I miss my guess, we're being followed. It could be a photographer, but then again it might not be. Either way, I don't think we want to meet up with him. I think we should go over in that corner and Dis-apparate directly to the Ministry."

Ginny craned her neck and looked out onto the street. The wizard could still be seen there. "All right, let's go," she agreed.

They reappeared in the reception area of the Ministry. Harry noticed that the hand on Ginny's watch was pointing to "you're late". "I guess I'd better get back to work, then," she said. "I've been gone far too long now. Thank you for taking me out to lunch." She smiled up at him, reached out and squeezed his hand. and then she was gone. Harry caught one last glimpse of her hair before she turned a corner and disappeared from his sight.

He turned and walked back out into Diagon Alley. He decided to make one last stop before returning to his flat. With this in mind, he headed for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.


	4. Chapter Four: Someone To Watch Over Me

Chapter Four:

Disclaimer: same as always… Thanks to my reviewers and beta readers!

****

Chapter Four: Someone To Watch Over Me

Harry walked into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and immediately looked around the shop to see which of the twins was in today. Ever since Fred and George had been recruited into the Department of Mysteries during the last year of Lord Voldemort's reign of terror, one of them, at most, was ever on the premises at any given time. The other was usually at the Ministry. Upon leaving Hogwarts, Ron had joined the twins as a partner in the joke shop to help them run the place. But he, too, had ended up at the Ministry. Between the three of them, they managed to run the business and fulfil their Ministry duties, whatever those were. The Department of Mysteries guarded its secrets closely. The shop itself was successful enough that its owners were able to hire on enough employees to keep things running from day to day. The only part of the venture that had suffered as a result of its owners' lack of time was product development. This had slowed considerably once the twins had begun to divide their time between two jobs, but in spite of this, business remained brisk. As for the Ministry, it tolerated their work at the joke shop, because it was considered good cover: outside the Weasley family and the Ministry, the twins' and Ron's involvement with the Department of Mysteries was known only to Harry.

Harry spotted George at the back of the shop and walked over. Long association with the Weasley family had taught Harry the subtle differences between the twins: George was slightly taller and stockier than Fred; he wore his hair a bit shorter and dressed in more muted tones. "Hi, George, have you got a minute? Actually, it may take longer than that. I've got something I need to discuss with you."

"Sure, Harry. Monday afternoons are always slow. Sounds serious."

"I think it just may be."

George told the witch at the counter he'd be in the back and not to interrupt, then he led Harry into the office and closed the door. "Have a seat, Harry. What's on your mind?"

"There's some sort of trouble going on, and it involves your sister."

"What's she done? Finally told her boss off? Nicked the socks of a high-level Ministry employee? What?"

"No, I think this is really serious." And Harry proceeded to tell George everything that had transpired since he and Ginny had left the wedding Saturday, glossing over certain details he didn't think were particularly relevant. "I didn't mention it to Ginny," he concluded, "but I'm sure the wizard outside HMV was not a photographer. I never did get a look at his face, but his build suggested to me he could have been either Crabbe or Goyle."

"Malfoy's old henchmen?" George let out a low whistle. "You're right, Harry, something is definitely dodgy about all this."

"I was wondering if you had any information that could be useful. I'm not asking you to reveal any Ministry secrets, but something tells me there is more to this than Ginny sending an owl to the wrong person. There was Dark Magic involved here, and somehow it was arranged so that it didn't show up on the detectors in Ginny's office. Either that, or the records were erased."

"And you say she found a record of owls she'd sent to Crabbe?"

"Yes, only a month or so ago. I never did get as far as seeing what the offence was. Ginny's boss came back to the office earlier than expected."

George considered for a moment. "I can tell you this much, Harry, but it can go no further. There have been reports of an increase in Dark activity elsewhere in Europe recently. No incidents have been reported yet in England, but I think we've just seen proof that such things can be covered up. And what you've just told me could indicate that the son of a known Death Eater could be involved. I can't say any more at the moment, but this will definitely have to be reported to my superior."

"Is there any way you could possibly keep this quiet? Ginny didn't want anyone in the family to know her cottage had been broken into."

George grinned. "Harry, you're dealing with the Department of Mysteries, here. Keeping things under wraps is our speciality." Then he added in a more serious tone, "As for telling me, you did the right thing. Ginny guards her independence fiercely, but in this case, I think she's going to need someone looking out for her."

"I really don't like the idea of her staying by herself in Hogsmeade, as isolated as her house is. Seems like whoever broke in there could come back any time."

"You'll never get her to leave. That cottage is her pride and joy. You realise, don't you, that most of her salary goes into the rent on the place. There are loads of places she could lease for less, but she won't stay anywhere else. And don't even think of asking her to move back to the Burrow."

Harry wondered what was going on between Ginny and her mother, but he couldn't think of any way of asking George without bringing up what had happened on Sunday morning, when Molly had turned up unexpectedly. He didn't think it would be a good idea to bring up that particular scene. Things were complicated, Ginny had said. Harry had the feeling they were about to get much more complicated. He said nothing about it to George, but he fully intended to be the one who looked out for Ginny's safety. He hoped he wouldn't have too much trouble convincing Ginny to see things his way. He thanked George for his help and Disapparated to his flat.

**

Ginny returned to the Improper Use of Magic Office to find Mafalda Hopkirk waiting for her. She was no longer smirking. "That was quite a long lunch hour Ginny. Did you and Mr. Potter have a nice time?"

"I'm sorry I'm late, Ms. Hopkirk," replied Ginny with feigned meekness. "I must have lost track of the time."

"I'm sure you did." The smirk almost returned here. Almost. "But that's not what concerns me most. It's what I found lying out on your desk." Ginny's heart leapt to her throat, but she was able to suppress the gasp that would have made her look guiltier. She had left the files she'd been going through that morning lying out on her desk in plain sight. "You weren't, by any chance, showing Ministry files to non-Ministry personnel, were you?"

Ginny looked her boss directly in the eye. "No, Ma'am," she lied.

"Then why did you have them out at all? And why these particular files?"

Ginny fought off a feeling of panic. She'd have to think of a convincing story quickly. "It was a slow day. Nothing much was happening. I just thought I'd tidy up the files, while I was waiting to go to lunch."

Mafalda Hopkirk pursed her lips but, fortunately for Ginny, seemed willing to buy this story. "Next time you decide to tidy up, I would appreciate it if you'd actually get around to the tidying up rather than leave the files lying about where anyone could see them. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be leaving now. I have a meeting to attend and then I'll be off home."

"Yes, Ma'am," Ginny grated out. She glared after Mafalda's retreating back. "How could I have tidied up before leaving?" she wondered aloud after her boss was out of ear-shot. "You're the one who hurried me off. Ignorant cow."

She sat awhile and stewed. She really hated her job. If it wasn't for the salary that allowed her to live away from home… Suddenly, a thought occurred to her, and she started towards the filing cabinets, but before she could reach them, she heard someone enter the office behind her. She sighed, thinking Mafalda had come up with something else to berate her about while she had been in her meeting, but when she turned around, she saw Percy standing there.

"Percy," she cried, "what are you doing here?" Then she had an evil thought. "If you've come to see Ms. Hopkirk, she's already left for the day."

Percy drew himself up. "No, Ginny, I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, make it quick, I'm busy."

He stared at her, incredulous. "You busy? In the Improper Use of Magic Office? Now we at the Department of International Magic Co-operation get up to some interesting things, but…"

"Like cauldron bottoms?" interrupted Ginny. "Look, I was just about to tidy up the files." If that excuse had worked the first time, it might work again.

"That can wait, can't it? Although I've always said one's files can never be too tidy…" Ginny rolled her eyes. Why couldn't he get to the point? "I came to ask you about Mum. In the interest of family harmony, of course."

"What about her?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"I was over at the Burrow yesterday afternoon, and she had a bee in her bonnet about something. It seemed to involve you."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing specific."

"So you decided to stick your nose in where it doesn't belong?" she cried. Her voice continued rising. "Listen, Percy, this is really not a good time. Mum thinks I'm still ten years old and need my hand held. She came over to my house yesterday morning, and I let her know in no uncertain terms that I do _not _need my hand held. It so happened she didn't like the terms I used, she got hacked off and left. End of story. Are you satisfied now?" She took a calming breath.

At that point Percy showed the bravery that is the hallmark of a Gryffindor and pursued the subject. "So there's no hope you'll go see Mum and smooth things over?"

"Percy, this is really none of your business, but the answer is no, I won't. If Mum doesn't trust me enough to realise she misunderstood the situation, I have nothing more to say about it. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Percy finally took the hint and left. Ginny took a few more deep breaths to calm herself. Overall, today really was not going well. Skiving off with Harry may have been a high point, but she wasn't sure it was enough of a high point to make up for all this aggravation. Thinking of Harry brought back mental images of yesterday in her garden… She shook herself. She couldn't afford to think about that now, pleasant as the thought was. She had to have a look in the filing cabinet. She turned towards it again.

"Erm… Gin?" said a voice.

"WHAT?" She whirled around, and there was George. "What is this, an office, or bloody Kings Cross?"

"Sorry, Gin, I needed to talk to you."

"Not you, too…"

"Not me too, what?"

"Percy was just in here. If this is about Mum…"

George held up a hand to stop her. "No, this official business. I need to ask you if anything unusual has happened to you, lately."

Ginny's heart skipped a beat. How did he know? "What sort of unusual occurrence would that be?"

George looked uncomfortable. "You know, anything, erm, unusual…"

Ginny arched a brow. "Is this the Department of Mysteries' latest interrogation technique? Because if it is, it needs some polishing."

"Come on, Gin, I need to know. This is official."

Ginny fixed him with a glare. "Has Harry been to see you?" George didn't bother to answer. "He has been to see you! I'll kill the bastard!"

"Woah, Ginny, calm down."

"I will _not _calm down." She began to pace back and forth. "I expressly told him not to tell my family, especially not you or Fred…"

"Look, Ginny, he told me the whole story. I had to report it. My superior has sent me for the files you found, as well as the records from Saturday. If you'll just hand them over then…"

Ginny sighed. Today was definitely _not_ going well. At least she had an excuse now to look at the files again. She went to the filing cabinet and opened it. She noted that everything seemed to be in order. "Here. This is the record from Saturday," she said, handing George a roll of parchment. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him take something small out of his pocket and begin to run it over the parchment. She turned back to the files, pulling out the records of the last six months, and began to page through them.

"Look at this," George interrupted her. "This," he said holding up a small square object, "is called a Spell Checker. You can run it over things like this parchment and see if there's been any sort of spell cast on it. Watch." He ran the Spell Checker over the record from Saturday and the Spell Checker began to glow green. "This parchment had been tampered with. Some sort of Erasure Charm."

"So someone erased the record of the break-in at my house?"

"Likely. More might have been erased. I can't tell exactly how much with this. I'll have to turn this parchment in to have it tested further. Have you got those other files?"

"Just a minute." Ginny paged through the files, and then paged through a second time. "George," she said apprehensively, "they're not here. They were here this morning and now they're gone."

"Could they have been mis-filed?" 

Ginny looked through all the filing cabinets as quickly as she could and found everything in order. Then she looked on her desk, on Mafalda's desk, on the floor… "George, those files have gone missing. They're not here anywhere."

George grew very serious. He took his sister by the upper arms and looked straight into her eyes. "Look, Ginny, I have a bad feeling about all this. I want you to take this seriously and be very careful. I should tell you to move back home, but I know you won't do that. I'd feel better about this if you weren't out there in Hogsmeade all alone. Do you have a friend you could ask to stay with you?"

"Stop it, George, I can take care of myself."

"Maybe Harry…"

"Sod Harry! When I get my hands on him, he'll regret the day he was born."

"Don't be so hard on Harry. I'd say he has your best interests at heart." George turned to leave. "Remember what I said, be careful."

"Wait, George. Promise me you won't tell anyone else about this."

"No problem, Gin. This official Department business now. I couldn't tell anyone if I wanted to." And then he was gone.

Ginny spent the rest of the evening thinking of ever more imaginative curses she could use on Harry the next time she saw him. When she could think of no more, she sat idly contemplating her wand, turning it over and over in her hands. It was interesting, she mused to herself, how in certain ways she herself was reflected in her wand. It was short at merely seven inches, and she was just barely taller than her mother; its core was dragon heart-string, and she supposed this could represent her fiery temper; she didn't know what to make of the willow that made up its exterior. She shook herself mentally. The things one thought of when one was bored at work.

Finally, at midnight, Eleanor Branstone came in to relieve her. Ginny was tired and hungry, having had no opportunity to eat anything since the ice cream that afternoon. She was glad her shift was over and even happier that she now had seniority over someone else so that she no longer had to work the overnight shift, as she had had to do when she was first hired. She shivered and realised with a shock that she was still wearing the Muggle summer dress; she had completely forgotten to re-transfigure her robes. "Isn't that just the icing on the cake," she said to herself. She was sure her eagle-eyed boss would have noticed her change of attire and jumped to all sorts of wild conclusions. Glumly, she made her way down through the darkened corridors to the reception area from where she could Disapparate to Hogsmeade.

She appeared with a _pop_ in the road in front of her cottage. The moon was bright, but its position behind her house cast the front garden into shadow. Ginny took one step towards her door and froze. There was someone lurking in the dark near her doorstep, she was sure of it. Quickly she drew out her want and muttered, "_lumos._"

"You!" she cried. It was Harry. She saw him leaning against the wall next to the front door with what looked like a bulky bag on the ground at his feet. Then she noticed Hedwig in her cage behind the bag. "Harry, what are you doing here?" she asked in an icy tone.

"I was waiting for you to get home from work," came his answer.

She advanced on him so that they stood face to face. "Harry, I'm in no mood for this. I'm hungry, I'm tired, and I know you went to see George and told him everything."

"I didn't tell him absolutely everything."

"You told him enough." Her voice was shaking now. "He came into the office this evening and wanted the files I'd found. And I asked you not to say anything. You should be very afraid right now. I spent the rest of the evening deciding the best curse to use on you." 

Harry seemed to suppress a smile, Ginny noticed, and this did not improve her temper. "And which curse did you decide on? The Transmogrifian Torture?"

"That's not funny. And you still haven't told me the reason you're here."

"I'm moving in here with you until we know what all this is about."

"You sure as bloody hell are _not_!"

"You can't stay here by yourself. It's too dangerous. I didn't say anything this afternoon, but I'm fairly sure the wizard who was following us could have been Crabbe or Goyle, from his build, anyway. I discussed it with George, and he agreed with me that you shouldn't be here alone."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Oh, thank you so very much for discussing me with my brother behind my back. And you've got quite a nerve assuming you can just move in here with me…"

She was interrupted at that moment by a flutter of wings, as an eagle owl swooped down at her. She stumbled forward with a cry, as she tried to avoid the owl's talons which passed dangerously close to her face. Harry caught her and steadied her before she could fall, then he reached down to pick up a black envelope that the owl had let fall at their feet. They stared at the address on the envelope, which read "Ginny Weasley, Hogsmeade" in sickly white lettering. Harry, however, was reluctant to hand it over, and finally Ginny said, "go on, open it." Harry hesitated and then tore the letter open. A greenish mist rose from it and formed itself into the shape of the Dark Mark.


	5. Chapter Five: Security

Chapter Five: Security

Disclaimer : see first chapter. Thank you to my revievers and betas. You are an inspiration to me. (Channelling Sally Field : you like me…)

****

Chapter Five: Security

Harry dropped the black envelope in his hand, but not quickly enough. It had burst into flame, singeing his fingers. At his side, Ginny took a staggering step backwards, swaying against him. Instinctively, he put an arm around her waist to steady her. His eyes remained riveted on the Dark Mark hovering in the air before their shocked faces. He found his voice at last and turned to Ginny, who looked as if she were biting down hard on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. "Ginny, unlock the door. Let's get inside."

As Ginny drew her wand and muttered the spell which would unlock the door, Harry pulled out his own wand and waved it at the ghastly smoky image in an attempt to disperse it. It was in vain; the hideous skull seemed to glow at him mockingly. He stooped quickly and picked up his bag and Hedwig's cage. Ginny had already gone inside.

He found her on the living room sofa, leaning forward on her knees, the heel of her hand pressed to her mouth. She might have been biting down on her hand; in the faint light of the candle she had lit it was hard for him to tell. Setting down his things, he walked over to sit next to her on the sofa and pulled her into his arms. She laid her head against his chest, and he pressed his cheek to the top of her head, as he gently stroked her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"What do they want, Harry?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"I don't know." It was the only reply he wanted give her. To himself he said, "At the very least, someone wants to scare her. At worst…" The worst didn't bear thinking about.

"Could it possibly be…"

"Voldemort? I think I'd have known if it were. I'd have had warning." Harry pushed back his fringe to show her his scar which was thin and white and very nearly imperceptible now. It had been that way ever since Voldemort's defeat. Before that time it had been much more noticeable, often throbbing, angry and red.

Wishing he could tell her more, he recounted what George had told him about increasing dark activity in Europe. "I think he knows more about it, but he can't say any more. We've done what we can. The Department of Mysteries is on the case now. They'll get to the bottom of this, I'm sure of it. The most important thing now is to make sure you're safe."

Ginny pulled back from him at this. "And the best way to do that is for you to move in here? Harry, I don't…"

"Do you want to stay here by yourself after what's just happened?" Harry broke in.

She looked hard at him. "No," she admitted. Her tone was grudging.

"Then I'm here for as long as you need me."

Slowly, she sat back so that she leaned against him. His arm settled around her shoulders. They sat for a while in silence until he felt her head slump over onto his shoulder. Looking down, Harry saw that her eyes had closed. He took out his wand and Summoned a pillow from her bedroom. Placing the pillow at the end of the sofa, he carefully eased his body back into a reclining position. He reached behind him to extinguish the candle, plunging the room into darkness, before removing his glasses. He lay there, cradling her on his chest, but it was a long time before sleep claimed him.

Harry's mind seemed determined to slip back in time to his sixth year at Hogwarts, when he had finally wakened up to the fact that Ginny was so much more than his best friend's little sister. He had been sitting by himself in the Gryffindor Common Room writing some essay or other. He couldn't remember; its subject was unimportant. He remembered hearing laughter and looking up in its direction. Ginny had been sitting with her friends by the fire, and his breath had caught as he watched how the firelight reflected itself in her hair. Suddenly, she had looked in his direction and caught his eye. In the split second before he had looked away, he had felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. He had recognised it at once: it had been the same sort of feeling he'd experienced whenever he was around Cho Chang in his third and fourth years. Yet it was somehow not the same. It was deeper, stronger.

But in that same split second, he had known he could never act on that feeling, not until Lord Voldemort was defeated. To put her in that sort of danger would have been unfathomable. Already, he had slowly begun the process of distancing himself from his best friends, Ron and Hermione, and they had been so absorbed in their discovery of each other that almost they had not noticed. He had been perfectly willing to let them leave him behind, if it would place them out of harm's way. Now he had another burden to bear in silence, but he was willing to bear it if it meant keeping Ginny safe.

His thought drifted ahead in time to Voldemort's ultimate defeat. The final two years had been filled with too much personal loss to allow him to celebrate with the rest of the wizarding world. He had lost friends and mentors. Grimly, he thought of each one. Hagrid. Dumbledore. Remus. Sirius. Snape, for whom he had developed a grudging respect before the end. Even Malfoy, who, although they had never been friends, had found the courage to defy his father. He had been too full of grief and had walked away from it all. He had lived as a Muggle for two years, maintaining no contact with the wizarding world; he hadn't even let Ron and Hermione know where he was. As much as he had needed that time to heal, he had always second-guessed that choice when it came to Ginny. He had wondered if, by turning his back on it all, he had lost his chance with her. Now it seemed he was getting a second chance, and he was determined not to lose this one, as well.

**

Harry must have fallen asleep at some point, because he awoke in the half-light of dawn. He shifted slightly, stiff from having lain so long in the same position with Ginny on top of him. As he looked down at her, he saw her eyelids flutter. Finally, she raised her head. She blinked at him, obviously disoriented. "We fell asleep," he said with a fleeting smile.

"What's the time?" she asked, yawning and pushing herself up into a sitting position.

"It's early. Maybe you should go get some proper sleep."

"Tempting as that sounds, I have to go to work later. I'll just have to drink loads of coffee."

In the end, in spite of having risen early, Ginny was hard pressed to get ready for work on time. Harry felt rather responsible for this, but it couldn't be helped. Beyond the normal morning activities of showering, dressing and eating breakfast (Ginny, obviously ravenous from having missed supper the night before, had made a very large one), there were all sorts of logistical problems to be worked out. Ginny had to find space in her wardrobe for Harry to store his clothes, and space had to be made for Hedwig's cage. Hedwig was quite old now and had been in a state of semi-retirement for the past few years, but Harry would never dream of insulting her by acquiring a new post owl. Then there were the sleeping arrangements to be decided. It was out of the question for Harry to pass another restless night on Ginny's sofa, but Harry hit on an ingenious solution and transfigured it into a Muggle-style sofa bed. The final detail to be worked out involved Ginny's front door. It had been charmed to respond to her voice alone, but now it had to be charmed to recognise Harry's voice, as well, so that he could come and go as he pleased while Ginny was at work.

Once they had sorted all this out, the hand on Ginny's watch was starting to lean towards "you're late" in a rather threatening manner. Harry accompanied her out into the road, noting in passing that the Dark Mark had finally dissipated on its own.

"What time do you think you'll be home tonight?" he asked before she Disapparated.

"Not as late as last night, I hope, but don't expect me before 10."

"I'll see what I can do about supper, then."

"All right. See you tonight." And she disappeared before his eyes.

Harry turned back to the cottage. The first item on his agenda was to check the wards and make sure they were still solidly in place. This done, he cast them again, anyway. If nothing else, they would be reinforced. Then he had to take a break, while he considered what else could be done to improve security. Looking into the distance, he could see Hogwarts castle looming on its cliffs. He had not been back there since he'd finished school, but today, he thought, he would go back. He would take a page out of Hermione's book and do some research in the library.

He went into the cottage and rummaged around until he had found a piece of parchment, quill and ink. He dashed off a rapid note, addressed it to Professor Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress, and went to Hedwig's cage: he still used Hedwig for such easy postal errands. Attaching the note to Hedwig's leg, he went to the door and sent her on her way. In half an hour she was back with an answer, and Harry set off on foot towards Hogwarts.

He passed through the village of Hogsmeade, surprised in a sense to see how little the village had changed, now that he saw it in daylight, since his school days. The same shops were all still there: Zonko's, Honeyduke's, Gladrags, the post office. The only thing missing on this weekday were crowds of black-robed Hogwarts students merrily making the rounds in groups of friends. He passed by one shop that sold post owls among other things. Through the open door he caught snatches of an argument between a customer and the shop's owner. The argument seemed to revolve around a dead owl. Next to this shop was a grocery, and he made a mental note to stop in on the way back and see if he could pick up something for supper. Or perhaps he'd stop at the Three Broomsticks and ask if they'd make him some take-away.

It was nearly noon when Harry climbed the steps to the main door of Hogwarts. He met Headmistress McGonagall in the entrance hall. She approached him with a broad smile that he would never have seen on her face during his school days. "Harry! So nice to see you after all this time. Please, come along, we'll have lunch in my office."

Harry returned her smile and shook her hand. It was definitely an odd feeling to be greeted by a former teacher as a friend and equal. As they stepped towards the marble staircase, Harry caught a brief glimpse of the Great Hall, where the rest of the school had already assembled for the midday meal. He thought he saw a familiar flash of red hair: Charlie Weasley had taken over for Hagrid as Care of Magical Creatures teacher.

After a pleasant lunch with the headmistress, during which Gryffindor's prospects at winning the Quidditch Cup were thoroughly dissected, Harry headed for the library. By now, afternoon classes were in session, and he was assured of having several hours to do research on protection spells. He thought if he could find a good one to use on Ginny, they both might be able to rest easier. 

The afternoon was drawing on, and he still hadn't found exactly what he wanted. He had a book or two left to look through, but he feared his quiet time in the library was running out. The bell signalling the end of classes had just sounded, and he knew that students would soon be filtering in to get a start on their homework. He wondered if he'd be allowed to take a few books back to Ginny's cottage with him. He was just getting ready to pack up his things and ask Madam Pince if he could borrow the books, when he heard someone approach. He looked up and saw Charlie Weasley, who was dressed in a decidedly un-professor-like manner. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a red-moustached Muggle cartoon character on it. The slogan on the shirt read, "Dragons is so stupid!"

"Harry!" he said in a voice loud enough to draw a sharp look from Madam Pince. "What brings you to Hogwarts? Professor McGonagall told me you were here, thought I'd say hello."

Harry was a bit annoyed. After all, he'd just seen Charlie over the weekend. "Oh, just thought I'd have a look around. Old time's sake."

"In the library? I'd believe that if you were Hermione, but…"

"I thought I'd look up a thing or two while I was at it." Harry winced slightly. It didn't sound very convincing. "Do you know if Madam Pince will let me borrow these?" he asked indicating the books, and crossing his fingers in hopes that Charlie wouldn't ask too many sticky questions. Given a choice, Harry would have told Charlie the situation with Ginny, but he decided he'd rather not face the consequences of his telling another member of her family behind her back. He had no doubt she would use the Transmogrifian Torture on him next time.

"I'm sure she will if you promise to bring them back. Otherwise, she might try to chain you up with the manacles in Filch's office."

"Does he still have those?"

"Yeah, still polishes them on a regular basis, too, from what I hear. Tell you what, let me sign out the books for you. Should be no problem then."

Harry was reluctant to let Charlie see what exactly he had been researching, but in the end he didn't have much choice. If Charlie noticed the books' subject, he made no comment. He shook hands with Charlie, took his books and set off towards Hogsmeade again. 

On the way back to Ginny's he stopped at the grocer's and bought some food. He had noticed that Ginny didn't have very much in the house, although it didn't seem she ate there very often anyway. He also picked up a bottle of wine, before heading for the Three Broomsticks for take-away. He was able to cook a few simple things like breakfast, but he decided he'd better get something better than a fry-up for supper, if they were going to have wine with it. 

Harry dragged his purchases back to Ginny's cottage and let himself in. A quick glance around showed nothing untoward had happened in his absence. He put the food away in the kitchen and settled into an armchair with his books. He still had a few hours before he expected Ginny to return from work, and he decided to pass the time completing his research. By half past nine, he closed the book he was reading in frustration. He felt he was no further ahead in finding an appropriate protection spell than he had been that morning. It seemed that every spell he'd come across that might actually do some good promised dire consequences if a mistake were made. Harry decided he'd rather not risk doing anything that might harm Ginny.

He looked at his watch and realised Ginny would be home soon. He went back to the kitchen, set the table for dinner, and opened the bottle of wine to let it breathe. He then set about making a salad from the produce he'd got at the grocer's and slicing a loaf of crusty bread. He had just finished putting a Heating Charm on the chicken pie he'd picked up at the Three Broomsticks and setting it on the back of the stove to keep warm, when he heard a noise at the front door. He poured two glasses of wine and took them into the living room as Ginny came through the door.

She seemed startled for a split second, as if she had not expected to see him there. This was likely the case, Harry reasoned. Ginny was used to coming home to an empty house. Her face was wan and there were dark shadows under her eyes, but she gave him a shy grin by way of greeting.

"You look tired, Gin. Come sit down and put your feet up," Harry said, handing her a glass of wine. 

Ginny sank onto the sofa and took a grateful sip from her glass. Her eyes widened. "This is delicious. Just what I need." She sniffed the air. "Supper smells nice, too. Did you hire a chef, or do you have talents I don't know about?"

Harry sat down beside her, and it seemed natural for him to lay his arm across the back of the sofa. Ginny made no protest. In fact, she settled in against him and put her feet on the coffee table. "I got some take-away from the Three Broomsticks this afternoon. I've just re-heated it. I'm afraid you've already seen the extent of my culinary talents."

"So what did you do with yourself all day, while I was slaving away at the Ministry?"

Harry wondered how much he should tell her. He thought it might be better to wait until he'd found what he was looking for before telling her about the protection spell. But then Ginny noticed the books from the Hogwarts library.

"Where did these come from?"

Now he'd have to tell her. "I decided to go up to Hogwarts and have a look in the library. See what I could find."

Ginny looked at one of the book's titles. "Protection spells, Harry? Do you really think that's necessary?"

"Couldn't hurt," was his non-committal answer. "I saw Charlie while I was there," he added, hoping to change the subject.

"What did you tell him?" she asked in a rather suspicious tone.

"Nothing, Ginny, I've learned my lesson. I'd really rather not be on the receiving end of the Trnasmogrifian Torture," he added with a teasing grin.

Ginny slapped his knee, barely managing to suppress her own smile. "Stop that, you. Let's eat. I'm starved."

As they ate their supper and sipped at their wine, Ginny told Harry about the doings at Ministry. It seemed her boss had not been idle in spreading rumours about the two, and Ginny had caught several Ministry employees giving her knowing looks. "Why can't people just mind their own business?" she complained. She drained her glass. Harry noticed her cheeks were tinged with red, but whether this was an effect of the wine she'd been drinking or embarrassment over being the centre of gossip, he could not tell. Suddenly, there came a howling sort of noise from the garden.

Harry started and exclaimed, "What was that?" 

Surprisingly enough, Ginny giggled. "Oh, those were just my lupines, I expect."

"Lupines?"

"Yes, lupines. Didn't you ever pay attention in Herbology? They're a kind of flower. Muggles often grow them, but mine are magical. When they're in bloom and there's a full moon, the flowers transform into little wolves' heads and they howl." Another howl sounded from the garden.

"Doesn't that get annoying?"

"Oh, they only bloom for about three weeks. They're perennials, silly, they don't bloom all the time," she added, as if this should have been perfectly obvious. "Some years they aren't even in bloom during the full moon, and they don't howl at all. Come on, I'll show you."

She got up from the table, grabbed his hand, and led him out into the garden. The full moon could be seen just rising from behind the surrounding mountains. Along a low wall at the very back of the garden, grew a border entirely made up of white flowers, designed to show up especially well in the moonlight. The contrast of the white with the surrounding darkness made the flowers seem to fairly glow. In the faint light, the lupines could been seen mixed in with the other plants, each cluster of what in the daylight would be tiny white blooms transformed into a tiny wolf's head which howled up at the moon, surrounded by star shaped leaves. The effect was rather eerie, yet somehow beautiful at the same time.

Harry looked down and saw that she still held his hand in hers. When he looked toward Ginny's face again, he saw that she was looking up at him. Their gazes locked, and a current seemed to flow through their joined hands. Slowly, Harry brought up his free hand to touch her cheek, and then he leaned down and kissed her. He felt Ginny lean closer, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck. As the kiss deepened, he felt Ginny respond with increasing enthusiasm. She stood up on the tips of her toes, as if she could not press close enough to him. Harry broke the kiss, but it was only to move his lips to her neck, which caused her to tilt her head back in order to allow him greater access. He felt her shiver against him as he hit on a particularly sensitive spot. He found her lips again, and for a while time ceased to exist. 

When a semblance of coherent thought returned to his mind, it was the unfortunate realisation that he needed to stop soon before he lost control. His desire for her had reached an almost painful stage, but he did not want to make the mistake of rushing things. The last thing he wanted was for her to have the impression that he considered her another of his conquests. He had already waited a long time for her and was willing to wait longer if he had to. With that in mind, he finally broke off their kiss, putting a hand behind her head and settling it against his chest. He held her like that a while longer, breathing in her scent, which closely resembled the perfume of the flowers in her garden, before taking her hand and leading her back into the house.


	6. Chapter Six: Suspension

Chapter Six:

A/N: A special thank you to Imogen and Carrie for their help with the Latin. Likely it's still not right, but, oh well, even JKR doesn't always get her Latin right…

****

Chapter Six: Suspension

Ginny awoke the next morning in state of confusion. She had spent the greater part of the night reliving the previous evening's scene in her garden in her dreams. Except in her dreams, Harry hadn't stopped… She sighed. She really wanted to know where all this was leading. Was it just the forced close proximity that was bringing this on? He'd said the other day they were friends, but she'd never been kissed like that by any of her friends. Ian, the boy she'd dated in her seventh year at Hogwarts, had never even kissed her like that, and he'd never been able to make her go weak in the knees as Harry's kisses had done last night. She sighed again, wondering how she was ever going to manage to bring all this up with Harry. It didn't seem to her a natural subject of conversation… Could she actually bring herself to say to him at breakfast, "Please pass the jam. Oh, and by the way, do you always go around kissing your friends like that?" The very idea made her cringe.

Impatiently, she threw back the covers and reached for her dressing gown. She had a whole day at the Ministry to face, and it was time to get ready. She stepped out of her bedroom on her way to shower and froze. Harry was sprawled out on his sofa bed, still asleep. His covers had slipped down to his waist, and from Ginny's angle, it looked very much as if he had nothing on. She felt her mouth go dry. She knew she'd be seeing this vision in her dreams tonight now, as well. She gasped as Harry rolled over in his sleep and the covers slipped just a bit more. "I've got to stop gaping, before he wakes up and catches me," she told herself sternly. But she kept on staring, realising now, at least, he wasn't entirely naked. She could now see he was wearing boxer shorts, _plaid_ boxer shorts, she noticed with a giggle. They were of a darkish green and blue with red and black threads running through it; it looked, incongruously enough, like a tartan of some sort. "Why has he got those?" Ginny wondered. "He isn't even Scottish."

The absurdity of the situation brought a semblance of sense back to her mind, and she was able to go about her morning routine. Harry was still asleep by the time she was ready to leave for the Ministry, so she found a scrap of parchment and wrote him a note telling him when to expect her back that evening and to make himself at home. The weather, which had been sunny and warm since the previous weekend, had taken a definite turn for the worse. Rain was pouring down in buckets and a chill wind was blowing. Ginny fastened a cloak over her robes, hoping the day would be nicer down in London, before stepping into the road and Disapparating.

An hour later, she was back at her front door in a state of complete shock. She unlocked the door and entered her cottage, not really registering what she was seeing or doing, until… "Ginny! What are you doing back so soon?" Her eyes came into focus on Harry, who was standing in the middle of the living room, clad in nothing but a towel. He'd obviously just come out of the shower: his hair was standing on end and dripping. 

Ginny took a minute to find her voice, and then said shakily, "Harry, they've suspended me from work." It was all she could get out at the moment. She noted with an odd detachment that Harry let the towel slip a few inches in apparent surprise.

"Oh, God! Give me a minute to get dressed, and then you can tell me what this is about."

Ginny nodded numbly, as she watched Harry disappear into her bedroom to get some clothes out of the wardrobe. She stood rooted to the same spot when he emerged from her room fully dressed now, his hair towel dried and combed. She thought she must look really upset, because Harry approached her and took her in his arms, hugging her close. The angry tears that had been threatening for the past half hour finally flowed. At last, Harry released her and handed her a handkerchief. "Come on," he said, heading for the kitchen, "I'm going to make some tea."

Ginny wiped her eyes, blew her nose discreetly, and followed him into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table, while Harry began preparing the tea. She could see the remains of his breakfast dishes in the sink. Harry, looking over at her and following the direction of her gaze, said, "Sorry, I didn't have a chance to clean that up yet. Would you mind telling me what happened at the Ministry? Why have they suspended you?"

"It was over the missing files…"  


"What missing files?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Harry shook his head. "It must have slipped my mind with all that's been happening," Ginny continued. "I'm sure I must have told you… Well, anyway, when I got back to the office the other evening, I realised I had left the files lying out, but they'd been cleaned up. Ms. Hopkirk told me off for leaving them out. Then George came into the office and asked me to hand over the files. I gave him the record from Saturday night, but the files we found on Crabbe and Millicent Bulstrode were nowhere to be found." She paused and took a grateful sip from the cup that Harry handed her before he himself took a seat at the table opposite her. "I looked everywhere. They were gone, and they'd been there before we went out. I said as much to George.

"So when I went into the office this morning, Ms. Hopkirk called me into her office, and blamed me for the missing files, and the record I gave to George. And she said she was suspending me indefinitely."

"Can't I tell her the files were there just before we went out?"

"No, that would be just as bad. I'd have to admit I let you see them. That was against Ministry guidelines, and I'd just be suspended for that. God, Harry, what am I going to do? As much as I hated that job, I need the salary to pay my rent. I'm going to have to move out of here…" Tears were threatening again. Ginny took a fierce swipe at her eyes and held them back.

"Can't you find something else?"

"How can I? The Ministry is hardly going to give me a job elsewhere, since I've been suspended from this one. I'm not going to get any references from Ms. Hopkirk. Do you know of anywhere that's hiring at decent wages that's willing to take me with no references?"

Harry was forced to admit that there weren't too many respectable jobs in this category. Ginny watched him as he placed a hand over his mouth speculatively. "Couldn't George corroborate your story?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I could ask him. I never know whether he'll be allowed to say anything or not." Ginny turned to the fireplace, pointed her wand and cried, "_Incendio!_" The fireplace immediately burst into flame. Rising, Ginny took a small container from the mantelpiece sprinkled a handful of glittering powder into the fire, stuck her head in and shouted, "George Weasley!"

From among the flames, Ginny now had a view of the office of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and she knew that anyone in the room would see her head floating in the fire grate. Presently, Fred came into her range of vision. He stooped down to answer her. "George is at the Ministry today, Ginny."

"Has he informed you of my situation?"

"Yes."

"Are you aware I've been suspended over the missing files?"

"Yes."

Ginny wanted to scream in frustration. "Well, can't you do anything about it? I need to pay my rent, you know."

"Sorry, Ginny, can't do anything for you at this time."

"Will you _please_ drop the official Department-speak and tell me why?"

Fred sighed. "Look, Gin, I'm not supposed to talk about this. It's official business." Ginny figured she must have got a particularly murderous expression on her face, because Fred then added, "okay, listen. I'll tell you why but it can go no further."

"Who am I going to tell, Fred? Honestly!"

"Okay, obviously, it was an inside job. If we let you take the blame for it, then whoever actually is responsible for the missing files won't know we're onto them yet. Make sense?"

"So are you and George planning on paying my rent while I'm out of a job?"

"Sorry, Gin. Why don't you save money by moving home while this gets cleared up? You'd be safer."

"I think I'll work it out on my own, thanks."

"Have you done anything about security then?"

Ginny smiled a bit at this. "Oh, I've taken a few measures. Good-bye, Fred."

Ginny turned back to Harry now, and explained what Fred had told her. "So they can't do anything for me," she concluded.

"As for your rent," Harry said, "I can help you out there."

"No. Absolutely not."

"Ginny, if I'm living here, it's only fair I pay my share, isn't it?"

Ginny relented. "I suppose so, but I still need to come up with my share."

"You're paid up until the end of the month, aren't you?" Ginny nodded. "Well, then, let's worry about that when the time comes. In the mean time let's try to look on the bright side. You really didn't like your job, did you?" Ginny shook her head. "And now you don't have to go in and drudge, do you?"

Ginny began to smile now. "I've just had a delicious thought. Term at Hogwarts is coming to an end soon, and it's going to be getting busy in the office. Ms. Hopkirk is going to be stuck with one new girl. Even if she hires someone to replace me, she'll have to train them… I can see her spending an absolutely hellish summer trying to keep up. That thought alone almost makes up for the lost wages."

Harry laughed. "That's the spirit! You're too good for that job, anyway."

Ginny's smile broadened. "You're right, Harry, I am too good for that job."

**

That afternoon found Ginny and Harry looking through the books from Hogwarts library again. That morning's weather had not improved any, which precluded their going out anywhere. Harry had suggested breaking out Ginny's new CDs, which she had left abandoned two nights previous on an end table. So they sat, each with a large volume, cups of hot tea on the coffee table, from which they each took an occasional sip, while they scanned paged of closely printed text.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. "Look, Ginny, I think I may have found something useful."

Ginny leaned over to look at the title of the book he was holding. The tome's spine read _Really Old Magic_ by Methuselah Antiquas. Harry handed her the volume and pointed to the page. "Read that," he said. "Tell me what you think." Ginny took the book and read:

__

The Holy Kiss

This ancient protection spell derives its name from its use among early Christians. Its only known incantation is in Latin and must date from this period. The original spell is certainly much older than this and must have existed in other forms that have been lost to Antiquity. From the latter part of the first century to the early in the fourth century A.D., this spell was in common use among the early Christians as a shield against their persecutors. During this era, Muggles and wizards coexisted peacefully: the wizarding community was not viewed with suspicion of practising the occult, as was the case in later times.

Thus, the wizards among early Christian church members were able to perform this spell on all the members of a congregation, wizard and Muggle alike, to help ensure the protection of all. This spell is specifically mentioned in St. Paul's letter to the Romans (Chapter 16): "greet one another with a holy kiss"; but the actual significance of this verse has been lost to modern Muggle Biblical scholars. The Holy Kiss may also be found mentioned in apocryphal texts retained by the wizarding community.

From these texts, we have been able to glean three ways in which this spell was intended to work. First, it provided a sort of protective magical shield against one's enemies. Second, it gave the recipient great mental fortitude. Third, it provided a great resistance to pain, as the magical shield was, unfortunately, not entirely reliable. The spell's relative unreliability was made up for by the fact that virtually no negative repercussions occurred if the spell was miscast, as is all too often the case with protective spells. In other words, it was felt that it could do no harm to try it.

The Holy Kiss was performed thus:

__
  1. The person performing the spell placed his or her wand tip over the heart of the recipient.
__
  2. The incantation basium sanctum tibi confero _was invoked_.
__
  3. The person performing the spell kissed the recipient.

It should be noted that this spell's power could vary according to circumstance. It was believed that the spell would be stronger according to the strength of the bond between the performer and the recipient. In the case of the early Christians, this bond was considered to be their shared faith, but other bonds were possible, in theory.

Ginny looked up at Harry. "I don't know, Harry. What's this about a bond between the performer and recipient?"

Harry's gaze was inscrutable. "Don't you think there's a bond between us, Ginny?" he asked quietly.

Ginny swallowed. "I think I'd like to hear from you what you think it is," she answered at last.

"There's the matter of the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Dumbledore used to say that when one wizard saved another's life, a bond was created between them."

"You mean a debt."

"Dumbledore said both a bond and a debt on different occasions. For what it's worth, I don't feel you owe me any sort of debt for that. What if we looked at it this way: we've both fallen under Voldemort's shadow and survived."

Ginny hoped her disappointment didn't show. This wasn't exactly the answer she'd been expecting. "I still don't know, Harry. Is that enough of a bond to make it work?"

"One advantage to this spell is it has no negative repercussions on you if I don't get it right. It really couldn't hurt to try."

"No, I suppose not."

Harry drew out his wand. "Then we'll try it." Ginny was aware of her heart-rate increasing. Somehow she was also vaguely aware of Liam Gallagher singing, "maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me…" on her CD player. She wondered why this should strike her so, but couldn't come up with an explanation. Her attention turned back to Harry, as she felt him place the tip of his wand against her heart. She stared into the depths of his eyes, as he whispered almost reverently, "_Basium sanctum tibi confero."_ Then he leaned down and placed his lips on hers. There was an instantaneous sensation of incredible power that passed from him to her. Afterwards, Ginny would retain no recollection of how long they remained that way, their lips fused together as the power continued to flow through her. Finally, the sensation ceased, and they broke apart, each breathing heavily. 

"Wow." Ginny said, and was surprised at the awe apparent in her tone. "I guess it worked."

"I guess it did." Harry's tone was equally amazed. He was staring into her eyes with an incredible intensity. Then he was kissing her again with the same passion as the night before, bearing her down on the sofa. Ginny felt again the sensation of drowning, and of wanting. Vaguely she was aware of his hand at her waist beginning to creep upward…

Breaking the kiss, she said, "Harry, wait!"

"What?" He was still breathing hard.

She hesitated slightly before forging ahead. "We need to talk before this goes any further."

Harry sat up and ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. Ginny was again reminded of the contrast between the boy she had known and the man who now sat beside her. He turned to her and looked into her eyes. "You're right, Ginny, we do need to talk about this."

Now that they had come to the point, Ginny hardly knew how to begin. She swallowed, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. "Well," she hesitated. "The other day you said we were friends, but…"

"But mere friends don't kiss like that," he finished for her.

"No. I need to know, Harry, if we're not friends what are we?"

Harry didn't answer straight away. He seemed to be considering his response carefully. In the end, he did not answer her question directly but rather posed one of his own. "Do you know when I first saw you for who you were?" She shook her head. "It was at Hogwarts. In the Common Room. You were laughing with your friends, and I looked up at you, and, God, you were beautiful…"

Ginny was shocked at this confession. She could feel her cheeks heat up and knew her face was turning a telltale red. "I never knew."

"I couldn't let you know. I couldn't let anyone know. It would have meant putting you in danger, and there was no way I could do that. So I kept it all to myself, I had to. If Voldemort had ever found out…" Ginny saw him close his eyes tightly and swallow. "I pushed you away then, as I pushed everyone away from me. I couldn't bear to see anyone else I cared for die. And then I saw you at the wedding, and it was as if I were seeing you in the Common Room again." Here Harry put up a hand to caress her cheek. "So beautiful. I told myself then and there I wasn't going to let you go this time."

Ginny was amazed to hear this, as amazed as she'd felt after he'd performed the Holy Kiss on her. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling unaccountably shy. Then, gathering her courage, reached up and touched his cheek. Gently, she kissed the corner of his mouth. Harry enfolded her in his arms and held her very tightly against his chest. Ginny felt his lips brush her hairline as he released her, and suddenly he was kneeling before her. He took one of her hands in his, gazing into her eyes with the same intensity as he had before he kissed her. "Ginny?"

What was he doing? Could he possibly…"Yes, Harry?"

"Ginny," he repeated, " would you do me the honour…"

He broke off here, and Ginny saw an odd expression pass across his face. If she didn't know better, he was suppressing a smile. "Yes, Harry, what?"

"Would you do me the honour of becoming my girlfriend?"

Ginny burst out laughing, and Harry soon joined her. When their laughter subsided, he said, "you know, I would like an answer…"

Ginny smiled up at him angelically. "I'll have to think about it. You know, I may need some convincing…"

"Then allow me to convince you." And he set about doing just that.

More A/N: Have I sunk into a pit of mush and silliness? Will I remain there? Stay tuned.

Let me state for the record here that I don't think the early Christians ran around engaging in snog sessions… For one, the spell doesn't even exist, being a product of my often warped imagination. For another, alert readers will notice that the spell as written did not specify where the Holy Kiss was to be bestowed: the cheek would likely have worked just as well, but, hey, if Harry wanted to take advantage of the situation, who are we to complain?


	7. Chapter Seven: Invasion of Privacy

Chapter Seven: ****

Chapter Seven: Invasion of Privacy

Ginny woke on Friday morning to the luxurious thought that she did not have to rise until she was ready. She would have been late if she'd had to go in to the Ministry, but that wasn't a problem today. She knew that at some point she was going to have to worry about finding a new source of income, but for some reason she just couldn't bear to dwell on that now. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had two days off in a row. It was nice to lie in a warm, cosy bed and contemplate having nothing urgent to do. It was even nicer to think back on the previous day.

Yesterday the weather had improved somewhat, but it was still overcast and chilly. Harry had insisted they go out and do something, so in the end they went into London, where they'd discovered on arrival that the weather was at least warmer, if not sunnier. Harry had wanted to avoid Diagon Alley and the possibility of another unpleasant encounter with someone like Mandy Brocklehurst. This had posed a bit of a problem, since Ginny was largely unfamiliar with Muggle London, and she needed to have a specific point in mind in order to Apparate safely, but then she'd thought of Kings Cross Station, and they'd Apparated to Platform 9 ¾. From there, they'd taken the Underground to South Kensington. The only previous experience Ginny had had with Muggle forms of transportation was with her father's Ford Anglia and the Ministry of Magic cars, so travelling on the Underground was an intimidating prospect. She'd had to stick close to Harry's side to avoid being separated from him by the crowds. She'd soon reached the conclusion that this definitely wasn't her favourite way to travel.

They emerged at the South Kensington tube station and made their way down Old Brompton Road towards Harry's flat. This was a small walk-up on the third floor of a building in Evelyn Gardens, sparsely furnished, the walls bare. But then Ginny had remembered he likely did not spend much time there. Harry had picked up an old blanket, some eating utensils, and dishes and had put them in a carry-all. Upon seeing Ginny's questioning look, he'd said, "thought we could get some food and have a picnic somewhere."

So they'd set out again, heading for Bute Street, where a selection of food could be bought in the shops. Their only disappointment was to discover that there was no cheese to be had in the cheese shop, even though Harry had asked for all the varieties of cheese he could think of. Leaving Bute Street, they'd set off in the direction of St. James Park.

Ginny smiled to herself. She'd been enchanted with the park and its lovely displays of flowers; its lake with pelicans, swans and ducks; its large, green expanse in the middle of the teeming city. They'd spread the blanket under a large tree near the lake and laid out their picnic. At that moment the sun had decided to show its face at last; it had broken through the pall of clouds, casting its warmth over them. They had partaken of fresh crusty bread, pate, and some cold sliced ham, seated next to each other, their backs against the bole of the tree, their legs stretched out in front of them. Then Harry got out some fresh fruit. Ginny had been surprised when he'd turned to her, a devilish grin on his face, holding a fresh, ripe strawberry up near her lips. She'd leaned forward to bite into its juicy sweetness, and he'd pulled it away with a low chuckle. Leaning forward a second time had brought her face near to Harry's, and instead of eating a strawberry, she found herself being kissed softly. When they'd broke off the kiss, Harry had popped the berry into her mouth, and she'd thought to herself, "two can play at that game." And so they had, until the berries were gone and both of them were rather breathless. 

By this time the sun had gone back in and the air was much cooler. They'd packed up their things and wandered back to Harry's flat, where they'd watched one of the most absurd things Ginny had ever seen on Harry's VCR. It was some sort of film about knights who ran around pretending to be on horseback, seeking something or other, and meeting up with decapitating bunnies, strange wizards (not very realistic, in Ginny's opinion) and catapulted cows. Harry had seemed to find it incredibly funny, and Ginny had had to laugh too, it was all so strange. At one point Harry commented, "you know, Ginny, Sir Lancelot looks a lot like Nearly Headless Nick, doesn't he? It's odd, because just the other day at the Ministry I saw a man who was walking in an extremely strange manner. He looked exactly like Nick as well…" 

Ginny laughed to herself at the memory. She thought she'd seen someone like that around the Ministry, but had never really noticed he'd looked like the Gryffindor House ghost. 

Ginny sighed and rolled over. She thought she'd heard a tapping sound coming from the living room, and it really was time she started thinking about getting out of bed, anyway. As she was reaching resignedly for her dressing gown, there came a knock at her door. "Yes?" she called.

It was Harry, of course. "Ginny," he said, "you've had an owl."

"What sort of owl?" she asked apprehensively, thinking unpleasantly of the last one she'd had. Tying the belt of her dressing gown, she went to the bedroom door and opened it. Harry was already dressed in his usual Muggle style clothes. She must have lain in bed longer than she'd realised. 

The small, cylindrical package Harry gave to her didn't seem threatening, at least, but Ginny was still hesitant to open it. When she finally did, she found a rolled up copy of the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_. "Who could have sent me this?" she wondered aloud. "I haven't got a subscription…" Her voice trailed off as she saw with a sinking feeling in her stomach that Harry's name was featured prominently on the cover at the top of the list of articles. Grimly, she pointed the article's title out to Harry: "Harry Potter's Latest Love?" She heard him sigh.

"I wonder who they've paired me up with this week," he said, a rather bored tone in his voice. Ginny turned to the article and immediately dropped the magazine with a small shriek. Harry retrieved it from the floor, giving Ginny a concerned glance, and looked at the page himself. She saw his face go white, and she knew that she had not imagined the pictures she had seen on the page opposite the article.

With a macabre sort of fascination, Ginny looked over Harry's arm at the photos again. She felt a wave a nausea wash over her. She swallowed. "I must _not_ be sick over this," she told herself sternly. "I told him I could handle it." She could not forestall the feeling of violation, however. Vaguely, she became aware that the magazine in Harry's hand was shaking. Looking into his face, she could see that he was enraged: it was in the set of his jaw and apparent in his eyes. It was frightening, in a way, to see him like this. When Ginny got angry, she yelled and swore, and everyone knew about it. Harry's anger was quiet and suppressed and that made it seem all the more terrifying. She could see in him now the person who dared face down Lord Voldemort; who duelled with him, even though they both knew their wands would not function properly against each other; who was able to remain locked in battle with evil until others could intervene, combine their magic, and finish Voldemort off.

Gathering her courage, she removed the magazine from his hand, and laid it on her bed. She tried to detach herself from the situation and look at the photos objectively, but she just could not manage it. There before her horrified eyes were two pictures. The first was obviously taken at Ron and Hermione's wedding. She could see herself dancing in Harry's arms, her head against his shoulder, in her peach coloured bridesmaid's dress, on whose bodice she could make out the occasional trace of a blueberry stain. Looking closely, she could see a photo credit: Colin Creevey, who'd been the photographer hired for the occasion. 

The second photo was far more sensational, far more incriminating. In it she could see herself and Harry on the bench in her garden, kissing. Somehow her brain noted how the sun seemed to shine around them, glinting off her hair. She looked for a photo credit for this picture and saw none.

She forced herself to take a look at the article, telling herself that it would be best to know, but she could not concentrate on the words. Only a few random phrases registered in her mind: "Ginny Weasley… Ministry of Magic employee… sister of Harry's friend Ron…" Her life summed up in a few short sentences. Far worse were the implications in the article, which the pictures opposite illustrated, that they'd been seen dancing together for much of the wedding reception and then observed in her garden the following day. And then there was a quote from Mandy Brocklehurst, explaining how she ran into them in Diagon Alley, how they'd been so wrapped up in each other they'd virtually ignored her. "She's really not in his league. Honestly, what's she got that I haven't got, and I've got more of it," Mandy was quoted as saying. Probably worst of all was the article's conclusion, which speculated on the permanency of the relationship. It was quite obvious that the author meant to paint Ginny as just another in a long line of Harry's conquests.

Ginny sunk onto the bed, feeling sick once more. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and the magazine was removed from her numb fingers. Harry had obviously seen something of the article, for he said, "it's not true. Remember what I told you, they take the truth and twist it." His tone was controlled, but Ginny could still sense the underlying anger seething in him. Abruptly, he said, "I'm going out."

Ginny's heart dropped. "Wait, Harry, where are you off to?"

"I'm going to get them to print a retraction." 

She heard the front door shut, a little more loudly than necessary. Ginny put a hand to her forehead. She had to think. What was there to retract, really, the fact that they were a couple? As of two days ago they _were_ a couple. Another thought niggled at Ginny's brain. Who had taken that second photo, the one of her garden? There had been no credit. Harry had taken the copy of _Witch Weekly_ with him, so she couldn't double check this. Who had known Harry would even be at her cottage? Unless… unless someone was watching her house. 

Not knowing if this thought would occur to Harry, as angry as he was, she started towards the front door to follow him. Suddenly she stopped, realising she was still in her dressing gown. Fighting the feeling of panic that welled within her at the idea of her comings and goings being so closely observed, she turned and headed for the bathroom to shower. She emerged from her bedroom not long afterward, dressed now, and headed once more for the front door. But as her hand reached for the doorknob, there was a knock. She froze as the panic returned, then steeled herself to open the door, and came face to face with her mother.

Ginny knew immediately from Molly's face that the ensuing scene would not be a pleasant one. "Hello, Mum," she said guardedly.

"Would you mind," said Molly, in a falsely calm tone, "telling me what this is all about?" And she held up her own copy of _Witch Weekly_. 

Ginny's heart sank. She might have known. "What's to tell, Mum? You've obviously got it all figured out." 

"How can you say that, as if it's nothing?"

"It _is _nothing!" Ginny insisted.

"Nothing? How can you say this is nothing! I didn't raise you to behave like some cheap trollop." Molly's voice was beginning to lose some of its calm.

"It's typical of you to jump to the worst conclusion, isn't it?" Ginny could hear her own voice rising now.

"I might have been ready to believe this all innocent, if I hadn't seen with my own eyes last Sunday. And after what you said to me what was I supposed to think?"

Ginny let out an exasperated sigh. "Mum, I'd think by now you'd be able to tell when I'm being sarcastic. Anyway, what's it to do with you what I get up to?"

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Why would I get hurt? I think I'm old enough to make my own choices!"

"If I think you're making a mistake, I'm certainly going to point it out to you."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Why did her mother always insist on pointing out her mistakes? "And just how am I making a mistake? You don't even know what's going on between Harry and me."

"I know enough. There's something about him and a different scarlet woman in here almost every week," replied Molly, indicating the magazine. "Why would you want to find yourself lumped in with them? You could have been married by now, given me grandchildren." Here, Molly's voice took on an almost pleading note.

"And you never think about whether _I'm_ ready to have children. I'm only 22 years old, mother. Why do I have to make the same choices you did?"

"Well, you didn't, obviously." This was said in an accusatory fashion. "You could have married that lovely Ian, and you let him get away."

Ginny could feel the heat rising in her face. She knew she must be turning as red as her hair. "I wasn't ready to get married straight out of Hogwarts. We were both too young. As much as you may have liked him, that wasn't a good reason for me to marry him."

"Better him than Harry…"

"Why do you insist on believing everything that gets printed in there?" shouted Ginny, gesturing towards the copy of _Witch Weekly_. "I'd have thought you'd have learned better by now. Why am I even justifying myself to you? This is bloody ridiculous!"

"He's going end up leaving you, as he's left all the others." Ginny thought her mother was trying to sound soothing here, but it wasn't effective. Molly was too angry now. "And you'll be left alone with your reputation in shreds. No respectable wizard is going to want you then."

"If Harry comes to see me, that's my business, not yours." Ginny heard her own voice take on a steely tone. "I trust him, and you should know him well enough to trust him, too."

"You're my daughter, and I didn't raise you to behave this way! On top of that your father tells me you've been suspended from work. Do you know what this is doing to him?"

Damn, Ginny thought, she knows about that, too. It was something else she'd have to lie around. "The suspension wasn't my fault," she grated. "Some files were lost, and I got blamed for it. But I didn't lose them."

Molly looked sceptical, and this just made Ginny dig in her heels a little more.

"Damn it, Mother, as far as I'm concerned we've nothing further to discuss here. I'm not a child anymore. I've been living on my own for years now. I don't need you to run my life for me."

"It doesn't seem to me you're doing a very good job of it yourself," said Molly with a quiet finality.

"Oh sod it all, Mother! You just can't keep your opinions to yourself, can you?" Ginny practically shouted. "You always think you know what's best, but on this occasion you're wrong!"

"But Harry…"

Ginny broke in on her. "Harry's a decent person and you used to think so, too! It's these bloody articles that have blinded you! They're complete bollocks, and you should know that as well as anyone!"

If Molly was going to reply to this, she was interrupted. At that moment Harry came in the front door.

A/N: A big thank you to my beta readers, as well as my "editor" (he knows who he is). Special thanks to Imogen and Alphie who helped me write a good row. My mum is too non-confrontational for me to have drawn on personal experience…


	8. Chapter Eight: Confrontations and Confes...

Chapter Eight:

Disclaimer: In addition to the usual (for which see chapter one), this chapter contains a line quite gratuitously and unashamedly taken from a Monty Python sketch. Obviously, this is not mine, as it belongs to its creators. Full credit will be given at the end of this chapter to give the Python fans among you a chance to spot it.

Chapter Eight: Confrontations and Confessions

After Voldemort's defeat, most of the business that catered to the Dark Arts in Knockturn Alley had been closed down. In many cases, the buildings that housed them had been razed to the ground. Then more legitimate commerce had begun to filter in from crowded Diagon Alley. Among them was _Witch Weekly's_ publisher which had recently moved from its cramped quarters near Gringotts to a spacious new building. The irony of the new location was not lost on Harry .

He had never been so angry over a _Witch Weekly_ article before. Normally he just ignored them, knowing them for the rubbish they were. But now he was outraged for Ginny's sake and the damage that might be done to her reputation. 

His anger must have been apparent on his face, when he strode into the publisher's and demanded to see the editor-in-chief himself, because the receptionist visibly recoiled. Still she found the nerve to give the standard excuse, "Mr. Grey is in a meeting."

"The hell he is," Harry retorted, as he walked straight past her desk.

Mr. Grey's office was easy enough to locate. There was an identifying plaque on the wall which proclaimed: Paul Grey, Editor-in-Chief. Harry opened the door quietly without knocking. Grey was seated with his back to the door, obviously unaware of Harry's presence for the moment, because he continued dictating to a Quick Quotes Quill. "So Mrs. Teal, send us fifty Galleons, and your husband Trevor, and your lovely children Diane, Janice, and Juliet, need never know the name of your lover in Boulton," he finished with an air of triumph.

Harry cleared his throat. Grey started and turned around. A calculating look overcame his dark features when he saw who stood in his office. He glanced at his watch and gestured to a chair. "Please, have a seat, Mr. Potter."

Harry fixed his gaze on the other man. "I'd prefer to stand, if you don't mind." His tone was icy and calm.

"I assume you've seen our latest issue."

Harry held up the copy he'd brought with him from Ginny's. "I have. I'm here to demand a retraction."

Mr. Grey had the audacity to laugh. Harry's fists clenched as he struggled to maintain his composure. He was well aware that an ugly scene would only give the magazine fodder for its next issue. "Now, now," Grey said once his laughter had subsided. "Surely you aren't going to stand there and try to deny what we've got photographic proof of."

"My relationship with Ginny Weasley has no place in your rag."

"I see. So you aren't denying your relationship."

Harry cringed inwardly. This was not going the way he'd hoped. 

"My dear Mr. Potter," Grey continued, "you are a public figure. Our subscribers have shown an interest in you. In short, your name on our covers sells magazines. You can hardly blame me for sticking with a tried and true formula."

"I can blame you for printing half truths." Harry's voice was starting rise. He knew he was getting to the point where wandless magic might occur, and he'd have to be careful. At the moment he was at least as angry as the time he'd blown up his Aunt Marge.

"We've printed a great many articles on you in the past. If memory serves, this is the first time you've lodged a complaint. Now why might that be?"

Harry refused to take the bait. "My relationship with Ginny is none of your readers' business," he repeated in a more modulated voice. "You had no right to portray her the way you did."

"Perhaps you'd like to offer us an exclusive, then. Tell us the story your way. Let our readers see your lady friend the way you do."

"Not bloody likely. You'll still find a way to rearrange the facts to suit you."

"Perhaps Ms. Weasley would like to tell her side of things, then…"  


"If I catch anyone from _Witch Weekly _anywhere near her, I won't hesitate to use the Cruciatus Curse on them, and the consequences be damned." Harry enunciated each word carefully in a dangerous tone. Then he turned and left the office.

He Apparated into the centre of Hogsmeade, rather than directly to Ginny's, since he felt that walking would provide some physical activity to help him let go of part of his anger. As he approached Ginny's front door, he thought he heard shouting coming from inside the cottage. He hurried to the front door and opened it. Upon entering the house, he saw Molly and Ginny facing each other down. He noted Ginny's flashing eyes and the way her cheeks were flushed and realised the shouting he'd heard had been an argument. Doubtless, Molly had received her copy of _Witch Weekly_, had seen the photos, and had come to confront Ginny about them.

When Molly rounded on him, he could see the same signs of anger in her that he'd noticed in her daughter. He braced himself for the assault he knew was coming.

"You!" exclaimed Molly, advancing on Harry. "What gives you the right to walk in here as if you own the place?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," replied Harry. "I heard shouting. I thought there might be some sort of trouble."

"And what sort of trouble might that be? And just what are you doing in Hogsmeade, anyway?" She didn't seem to expect a reply, since she continued, "my daughter isn't some strumpet for you to use as you see fit and then leave when you're ready to move on!"

"Mother!" Ginny practically shrieked. "I've just finished telling you it's not like that at all!"

At the same time Harry said, "that's not how it is at all, Mrs. Weasley. If you'd just let me explain…"

"Harry," Ginny broke in, her eyes sparking at him and a warning note in her voice, "you don't owe her any explanations."

"Yes," Molly spoke over her daughter. "Please do explain. Explain to me why there are pictures of you and my daughter in _Witch Weekly_."

Harry wished he had a Time Turner so he could go back and start the day over. He had been much better off, he mused, back in bed remembering the park yesterday, and lunch, and strawberries… But he couldn't afford such pleasant thoughts now. He had to think of how he was going to manage to offer explanations to an outraged Molly, while at the same time revealing nothing that might set off an equally angry Ginny. He sighed. He knew he had a very fine line to walk.

"Mrs. Weasley, I had no idea those pictures were going to appear. I had no idea they even existed. I've just come back from the publisher's."

"Are they going to print a retraction?" asked Ginny.

Harry swallowed. "No," he admitted. "I couldn't get anywhere with them."

"If they refused to retract that article, then there must be some truth to it, mustn't there?" said Molly rather shrewdly. "Just what are your intentions toward my daughter?"

"Don't answer that, Harry. It's none of her business," Ginny put in quickly.

Molly turned back to Ginny. "It most certainly is my business. You're my daughter. I have the right to know if he's going to drag your name through the mud."

Harry wished he knew just what, exactly, he had done to make Molly think so badly of him. He knew the press had given him a reputation, but, he thought, Molly should know him better than that. Ever since his return to the wizarding world, Molly had treated him with a good deal less warmth than she had during his teenage years. He was certain there had to be more to it than just a few articles in _Witch Weekly_. "Mrs. Weasley, I would never drag Ginny's name through the mud. If anyone's done that, it's _Witch Weekly_." Harry looked over at Ginny and met her eyes before looking back at Molly. "I care a great deal about Ginny, and I would never intentionally do anything to hurt her."

Molly might well have been placated by this, if Hedwig, who up until now had passed unnoticed, hadn't chosen that unfortunate moment to hoot. All eyes turned towards her cage which had been placed on a small table by the window. Under the table in full view was a pair of Harry's shoes. Molly obviously saw them, for she said, "for someone who has no intention of dragging my daughter's name through the mud, you've certainly made yourself at home here, haven't you? I don't need to ask what your intentions are now, do I?"

Harry had no idea what he could possibly say to defuse the situation now. He thought he must look rather desperate. Ginny, however, must have decided to take the situation in hand. "Yes, Mother, that's right," she said. "Harry's moved in here with me. I could tell you he's been sleeping on the sofa, but I don't suppose you'll believe that, will you?"

Molly's face went completely white at this. She put a hand over her heart. Then she exploded. "Never," she spluttered. "Never in all my born days could I ever have imagined any daughter of mine behaving this way! Mark my words, Virginia Weasley, when your father hears about this, it will be the death of him!" Then she turned on her heel and stalked out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Harry and Ginny stared at each other for a moment, speechless. Then to Harry's surprise, Ginny turned around and kicked the wall. "She makes me so angry!" she shouted. "She comes in here and tells me how to live my life, tries to tell me who I can and can't see… I'm not ten years old anymore and she can't get that through her head…" She broke off, and took a deep breath. In a calmer voice she went on, "I'm sorry Harry. It's just that Mum and I haven't see things the same way for a long time. It isn't just the _Witch Weekly_ photos, it's everything. This is just the latest in a long line of disagreements."

Harry walked over to Ginny and put his arms around her. "Tell me about it if you like." Ginny stood there a minute in his embrace. Harry felt her small hands creep around his waist, her arms tighten about him, and her head come to rest on his shoulder. Harry brought a hand to the back of her head and traced it down the fall of her hair. It was comforting to him to hold her like this, and he felt the last of his anger drain away. He heard her take one last, shaky breath before she broke away from him.

"I'll tell you in a bit. I haven't had a chance to eat anything yet, what with one thing and another." He followed her into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and waited while Ginny made herself some toast and brewed tea.

When the tea was ready, she set a mug of the steaming beverage in front of Harry and took a seat opposite him at the table. "Might as well get comfortable. This could take awhile," she said. She paused and considered, as she spread butter on a slice of toast. "I suppose my troubles with Mum all started with Ian…"

"Sorry," Harry broke in. "Who's Ian?"

"Oh, Ian Breakstone. I dated him seventh year."

"I don't seem to recall that name… I know he wasn't a Gryffindor."

"No, he was a Slytherin."

Harry gaped. "You dated a Slytherin?"

"Almost all of seventh year. They aren't all complete gits, you know."

Suddenly, Harry burst out laughing. "You rebel!"

Ginny looked up at him, amazed. "Yes, that's right," she said slowly. "That's exactly what I was doing, rebelling, but I didn't realise it right away. Of course, I knew my family wouldn't be too pleased with the situation, once they found out. And I was right, they weren't. At first. But then Mum insisted on meeting Ian, and she just adored him. Practically began planning the wedding then and there."

Harry was a bit shocked to learn that. "But you were only…"

"Eighteen by then," she finished with a wan smile. "Much too young, and certainly not in love. But Mum married Dad almost straight out of Hogwarts, and she'd got it in her head that I should do the same. Strangely enough, Ian lost a lot of his attraction for me after that, and I broke it off. I don't think Mum has ever forgiven me for that."

Harry realised he'd never known about all this because it had occurred during the time he'd been living as a Muggle. He wondered what else he might have missed.

Ginny took a sip of her tea, buttered another slice of toast and continued. "After that, Mum and I had all sorts of rows on a regular basis. I don't even remember what they were about. Stupid, inconsequential things, mostly. I was ready to move out of the Burrow, but I needed money to support myself. Dad got the job at the Ministry lined up for me, and I took it, because it meant I could move out more quickly than if I'd had to line something up on my own. And I knew I wanted to come and live here…"

She trailed off here and smiled a bit dreamily. Harry was fascinated. He'd never heard any of this before. "I used to walk by this house every time I came into Hogsmeade on weekends," she continued. "I always thought it was the loveliest little cottage, and I used to imagine who might live here. One day I sneaked around to have a look at the garden… I used to daydream in Herbology class about what I'd do with it if I lived here…

"So anyway," she said looking back at Harry, "once I'd got the job at the Ministry, I came up here and discovered this place was for rent, and I took it. Mum tried to talk me out of it. Hogsmeade was too far away. The rent was too much. I guess that part's true, but I've managed so far."

Harry wondered how she was going to continue to manage now that she'd lost her job. If Ginny was thinking along those lines, she didn't mention it. Instead, she said, "So now my mum has another excuse to row with me…"

"If it hadn't been for that damned article…" began Harry, his anger beginning to return.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry was amazed. "Sorry? What have you got to be sorry for?"

"It's just that I told you I could handle it, and I'm not handling it well at all…"

Harry wondered how she could possibly think that. In spite of her delicate appearance, he knew her to have an inner core of steel. He reached over and squeezed her hand, running his thumb over it. "Ginny, you're handling it just fine. I'm the one who's not handling it well. I went down to the publisher's to demand a retraction, and I'm sure I just gave him more material for next week's issue. How could either of us have known they'd find such, well, sensational photos…"

But Ginny cut him off. "Harry! The photos!"

"What about them?"

"Where did you put that copy of _Witch Weekly_? You took it with you when you walked out earlier."

Harry wondered what she was on about. "I think I might have left it in the living room. Why?"

Ginny did not answer. She got up and went into the living room. Harry, following, found her seated on the sofa, paging through the magazine. "Here," she said, as he sat down beside her. "Look."

She was pointing to the second photo. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to look at it again. For one thing, it made him angry to think that such a private moment should appear in print. For another, it made him think about kissing Ginny, and thinking about kissing her made him want to kiss her. He didn't think that now would be a particularly good time for that. Reluctantly, Harry looked.

"There," Ginny was saying, "do you see it?"

"See what?"

"There's no photo credit."

Harry still wasn't sure where all this was leading. He could see there was no credit now, but he didn't know why that might be important. Out of curiosity, he looked at the photo from the wedding and saw Colin Creevey's name under it. "I'm going to kill Creevey!" he cried, outraged.

Ginny placed a calming hand on his forearm. "No, Harry, that's not what's important at the moment!"

"Could you please explain to me what is then?" Harry finally asked, a bit exasperated.

"Well," Ginny began. "Who knew you were here that morning?"

"You mean besides your mother?"

"Well, yes, but I really don't think my mum was taking photos of us to send to _Witch Weekly_, given her reaction to them just now. Other than her, who knew you were here?"

Harry felt something prickle along his spine. "No one should have known I was here," he said slowly.

"Exactly. So who took this picture? Harry, I think whoever it was is watching this house."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Of course, she was right. Why had he stormed off to see Grey in such a fit of anger? If he'd thought about it, he could have demanded to know the identity of the photographer. Not, he thought upon reflection, that Grey would have been likely to tell him. He realised now that Grey had done a very good job of controlling the situation. No, that avenue of investigation was definitely out.

Harry looked at Ginny, who seemed to be waiting for an answer. "Yes, I think you're right. I have no idea if this is related to what's been happening at the Ministry, but I think we should see if your brothers have anything useful they could tell us."

"Fred and George tell us anything? Not very likely."

"It's worth a try."

Ginny was looking at him with wide eyes. "Harry, this is scary. First someone broke in here, then the files went missing, then someone sent me the Dark Mark, and now this. It's like a warning or something. But what are they trying to warn me about?"

Harry put his arms around her and hugged her close. "I have no idea, but I intend to find out."

A/N: Grey's line about blackmailing Mrs. Teal and her lover in Boulton is taken from Monty Python's "Blackmail Game" sketch. 

Thanks to my betas and editor… If I didn't take your advice everywhere, my apologies. I tried to rewrite the beginning and it just wasn't working that way…


	9. Chapter Nine: A Night Out

Chapter Nine: ****

Chapter Nine: A Night Out

Ginny stared at the contents of her wardrobe and sighed. It was Saturday afternoon, a full week since Ron and Hermione's wedding. An hour earlier, she had received an owl from the twins which asked her to come down to the joke shop later in the day. Harry, upon reading the note, had said he'd come along, and then, she had watched as a slow smile spread over his features. She had practically been able to see the wheels turning in his head. He'd obviously had some sort of plan in mind, but he hadn't told her what exactly it was. He'd only said she should dress up Muggle-style. Then he'd gone out.

Ginny had no idea why she should dress up to go see her brothers. She was also sure her wardrobe contained nothing appropriate. She'd have to transfigure something. Taking out her nicest dress robes, she concentrated on a mental image of a simple cocktail dress she'd once seen in a Muggle fashion magazine, pointed her wand, and cast the spell. She considered the sleeveless forest green velvet frock she'd produced, and hoped it would be all right. She then transfigured a pair of shoes to match, and proceeded to put up her hair.

She was adding some finishing touches to her subtle make-up, when she heard Harry return. Going into the living room, she saw him set down a bulky package and put a long, white box on the coffee table. He looked up at her and opened his mouth to say something, but the words never came. Instead, he paused and gaped for a minute. Finally, he found his voice. "Wow, Ginny, you look wonderful!"

Ginny felt a blush creep over her cheeks. Harry cleared his throat. "Well," he said. "I need to get ready myself then."

"Get ready for what, Harry?"

Harry smiled enigmatically. "You'll find out soon enough."

As he disappeared into the bathroom, she noticed he had a small garment bag slung over his shoulder. He must have gone to his flat to retrieve some more clothes, along with whatever else he'd brought back with him. She sat down on the sofa to wait. Soon, she heard the noise of water running and knew he was in the shower. In vain, she tried to block the mental images that insisted on passing through her mind. In an effort to think of something a bit less disconcerting, she wondered what could be in the oddly shaped package he'd set on the floor. Should she have a look? Would it have anything to do with whatever he was planning? She was just giving in to the impulse to snoop, her hand reaching for the package, when she heard the bathroom door open. She immediately snatched her hand back and assumed what she hoped was an innocent expression. Harry emerged from the bathroom dressed in a charcoal grey suit and an emerald green silk tie. It was Ginny's turn to gape. "Harry," she tried again after a moment, "why do we need to dress up to go see my brothers?"

Harry grinned. "It's a surprise. Now stop asking. You'll know by the time the day is over, I promise. By the way, that box is for you." He was pointing at the white box on the coffee table. Ginny reached over and tugged on the ribbon which was tied around it. She removed the cover and gasped. There, wrapped in green tissue paper, were a dozen long-stemmed red roses. "I had to buy them," Harry said. "I didn't want to take them from your garden."

Ginny was speechless. No one had ever given her flowers before. She stood and walked over to Harry, looped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. "Thank you," she whispered. She held his gaze, saw his eyes burning into hers, felt him place his hands at her waist. She thought she could smell a subtle scent of after-shave. She leaned in for another kiss, but he only brushed her lips quickly with his own. She tried not to look disappointed when he released her, saying, "come on. We're due at the joke shop."

"We'll leave in a minute. I want to put these in water first." Ginny got out a vase, filled it with warm water, and carefully trimmed each stem before arranging the flowers attractively. Placing them on an end table, she said, "Now we can go."

They Apparated to Diagon Alley, arriving in front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Entering the shop, they were surprised to see both Fred and George there. It was a rare occurrence to find them both in their shop at the same time. If the twins were startled by Harry's and Ginny's apparel, they did not show it. Instead, both of them grinned in a positively evil manner, a grin Ginny recognised from her childhood as indicating a certain amount of teasing was imminent.

"Well now, what have we here?" asked Fred, walking over to Harry and Ginny.

"Seems to me we just invited Ginny, eh Fred?" put in George, as he come over in his turn, looking her up and down.

"Yes," said Fred, "and here she is, looking absolutely ravishing, I might add."

"Looks like she's getting plenty of that," said George.

Ginny cut him off, a blush rising in her face. "All right, just get to the point. What did you want to see me for?"

"We don't want to get to the point just yet," answered Fred.

"Nah," added George, "too boring. So where are you and Harry off to? Hot date?" Here George nudged his brother with his elbow and waggled his eyebrows.

"It's none of your business," replied Ginny a bit peevishly.

"Don't you mean to say none of our affair?" asked Fred cocking an eyebrow and placing particular emphasis on the word "affair".

Ginny felt her face flame even more at this. She inwardly cursed her redhead's complexion that could so easily give her emotions away. She knew the blush could easily be misinterpreted, and that her brothers would not hesitate to cast things in the worst light, if it suited their sense of humour. She also knew she shouldn't be taking the twins' bait, that she was reacting just the way they wanted her to, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. And why wasn't Harry saying anything? she wondered suddenly. She glanced over and saw him suppressing a grin. She opened her mouth to protest, but George cut her off.

"All right, Gin, the reason we asked you to come down here is we have a, well, proposition for you."

"So you may just be getting two today…"

"Fred!" Ginny cut him off before he could add anything more embarrassing. "God! You're as bad as Mum at jumping to the wrong conclusions." 

"I've come to the conclusion our little sister has taken a new interest in sport," said George.

"Yes, I'd say she must be quite fond of Quidditch now," said Fred. 

"So has Harry taken you for a ride on his Firebolt yet, Gin?" sniggered George.

Ginny knew her face was as red as her hair by now. Just then, a bell tinkled, as a customer entered the shop. Harry obviously saw less humour in the situation at that point, because he asked, "do you think we could find somewhere a little less public to discuss this?"

"Haven't you been spending enough time somewhere less public?"

In spite of this parting shot from Fred, the twins must have agreed, since George immediately took Ginny and Harry into the office at the back of the shop, leaving Fred to see to the customer. Ginny wondered if they'd spoken with Molly since yesterday; she knew it was highly unlikely they'd been reading _Witch Weekly_.

Once everyone was seated in the office, George began again on a more serious note. "Here's the thing, Ginny. Mrs. Teal owled us today and said she wasn't coming in any more. Said she was quitting. Wouldn't give a reason. So we find ourselves short-handed here at the shop. We were wondering if you'd be able to give us a hand here, since you're out of a job at the moment."

"Me?" asked Ginny incredulously. "Work here? Why would I want to do that?"

"Look, Gin," said George. "In a way, it's our fault you got suspended from the Ministry…"

"You've got that part right," Ginny interrupted him, a certain amount of bitterness creeping into her tone.

"We're both sorry about that . We had to let you take the fall. That part paid off, actually. So anyway, we thought we could make it up to you by offering you…"

"No, thank you!" Ginny cut in. "I don't need charity."

"It wouldn't be charity," replied George. "We'll pay you a decent wage, but you'll have to work for it. And it would only be temporary. If you find something better, we'll let you go, no questions asked."

"I'll think about it." Ginny's first instinct was to turn the offer down, but the problem of her rent raised itself in her mind. Even if Harry did pay half, she still had to come up with her share. And certainly her brothers would treat her better than Mafalda Hopkirk had, even if they were prone to teasing. The hours would be better, as well, she thought. There was no need to man the joke shop on a twenty-four hour basis. 

Ginny was brought out of these musings when she heard Harry speak. "George, what exactly did you mean about letting Ginny take the fall paying off?"

"It means we have a good idea who took the files and Confunded the Dark Magic Detectors."

"Are you allowed to say who? Or is that classified?"

"Sorry, it's classified."

"Could you possibly make an exception and tell us? Because there have been more strange things going on." And he proceeded to tell George about the Dark Mark and the _Witch Weekly _photo. "And Ginny pointed out the missing photo credit to me," he concluded, "and said it meant someone was watching her place. I have to agree with her on that. I checked around the house and never saw anyone, but I don't suppose that means anything."

George let out a low whistle. "No, it doesn't… I can give you some information but on two conditions. One, it goes no further, and two, you and Ginny don't do any sort of investigating on your own. Let us handle it. Agreed?"

Harry agreed a bit grudgingly, Ginny thought. "Look," she said, "just tell us, and we'll do whatever you want."

"When the files turned up missing so quickly after you discovered them, Fred and I had to conclude it was an inside job," began George.

"Yes," said Ginny, "you've already told me that."

"From what you told me the other night," continued George, "your boss discovered the files lying out on your desk rather quickly. And she put them away. It was only after that they turned up missing."

"Yes, that's right," agreed Ginny.

"Don't you think it's odd she'd notice those particular files so quickly? I mean, how many files are there in that office? Hundreds? Thousands? All of them pretty much alike and really rather boring?"

"Yes, that's all true. Are you saying Ms. Hopkirk was somehow involved in those files going missing?"

"Got it in one," said George. "We were almost certain she did it. We brought her into our office and questioned her. Couldn't get much out of her at all. However, we do have more than one way of finding things out… Before you ask, it's classified. But it seems Ms. Hopkirk has been acting under the Imperius Curse for some time now."

"What?" exclaimed Ginny.

"As I said, we have ways of finding these things out," said George. "She's been Confunding the Dark Detectors in the Improper Use of Magic Office so that certain dark activity has been passing unnoticed. But somehow you stumbled onto Vincent Crabbe and Millicent Bulstrode and sent them owls before Ms. Hopkirk was able to stop you."

"I don't even remember what they did to get an owl. But it couldn't have been very much. Dark Magic would have had to have been reported to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, at the very least. Likely your department would have been notified as well."

"In any case, you've obviously stumbled onto something you weren't supposed to."

"And that's why all these things are happening to me? You'd think they'd at least tell me what business I'm supposed to keep my nose out of. Believe me, I'd gladly do it. But all they've succeeded in doing is scaring me."

"We have no idea what their motives might be right now," said George. "But you do need to be careful. There has been an increase in dark activity in Europe, and now we know it's happening here as well. They've just been able to cover it up until now."

No one spoke for a moment, although they were all well aware that not all the Death Eaters had been caught after Voldemort's defeat. A handful of them had been able to Disapparate before they were apprehended, and they remained unaccounted for. It seemed obvious to everyone who was likely to be responsible for the increasing dark activity.

"One other piece of information I can give you," said George, breaking the silence. "There's been a rumour that some of Voldemort's old supporters have been seen in England recently. It's just a rumour for now, there's been no hard confirmation."

"Do you think," said Harry, who up until now had been merely listening, taking it all in, "that Death Eaters could be behind all this?"

"I can't answer that," said George. "We don't even know for sure if there _are_ Death Eaters in England at the moment. I can only say it's a strong possibility. If it is them, we'll catch them. They have a lot to answer for. 

"So, Gin," George continued after a moment, the teasing grin coming back to his face, "when you told Fred you'd taken some security measures, you didn't say what they were…"

"George, I'm sure you know very well that Harry's staying at my place. And you also know the reason why, so please keep your comments to yourself."

"You know, Gin, Mum's quite upset…"

Ginny sighed. So her mum had been talking… "I know she's upset, but what can I do? She'd be just as upset, if she knew the real reason behind all this. Listen, could you do me a favour and say something to Dad?"

"Shouldn't you be doing that?" asked George. 

"How can I do that and avoid Mum? If I go to the Burrow, we'll just get into another row and accomplish nothing. And I can't go to the Ministry, since I've been suspended. Just say as much as you need to, to explain the situation without worrying him needlessly."

"I suppose we could do that, then. Now you think about the job offer…"

"I've thought about it. I'm willing to give it a go."

"Good then. You start bright and early on Monday. Be here at half past eight."

As Harry and Ginny rose to go, Harry said, "is there a back way out of here? I'd rather not be seen if I can avoid it with everything that's been happening." Ginny had a feeling he didn't want to be the object of any more gossip. George showed them to the back door, saying they could Disapparate from the alley behind the shop. 

Once they were back outside, Ginny looked up at Harry questioningly. He would need to give her an idea of where they were going now. But Harry only said, "We'll Apparate to the courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron. We can walk from there."

They hurried through the Leaky Cauldron with a quick nod to Tom. Once they'd reached the street, Harry offered Ginny his arm, which she took to avoid them being swept apart by the crowds on the pavement. They began to walk along Charing Cross Road, heading in the same direction as they had the day they'd gone to Oxford Street. 

"I know it's a bit early," Harry said after they'd walked a while in silence, "but what do you say to dinner before, well, you'll see…"

"Harry, when are you going to tell me where you're taking me?"

Harry grinned down at her. "After dinner."

Ginny sighed. "Well, let's go eat then, so I can find out your secret."

It was only around six, and many of the restaurants they passed were just opening for the evening. They'd reached the theatre district, another part of London Ginny had never seen. Arriving in Frith Street, they entered a bar, relatively empty at this early hour, and headed to the restaurant upstairs. They were shown a table, and the waiter, when he arrived, flirted outrageously with Ginny, complementing her in a false French accent, and making her blush. They were enjoying their meal of fresh fish prepared Provençal-style and sipping glasses of dry white wine, when Harry said, "from the sound of things, your mother has mentioned our arrangement to the rest of your family. Am I going to have to worry about your brothers descending on me to defend your virtue?"

Ginny put down her fork and laughed. "Well, you don't have to worry about Ron for another week." She began counting on her fingers. "The twins know what's going on, and we've just seen their worst. With any luck, they'll fill Ron in before Mum does. The worst Percy will do is give you a lecture on responsibility. Bill's back in Egypt. I think if there's anyone you need to worry about, it's Charlie."

"Charlie?"

"Yeah, Charlie. He actually lives nearby me and knows a lot about quite a few nasty beasties."

Harry had just enough time to realise she was teasing him and to start to laugh, when another couple was seated near them. Soon, they couldn't help overhearing the conversation between them and their waiter, a conversation which revolved around a dirty fork, and which resulted in the head-waiter and the restaurant's owner being notified, and the entire washing up staff being sacked. It struck Ginny as absurdly funny when even the chef came out of the kitchen and got involved. After this episode, they decided to forego dessert, so Harry paid the bill and they went back out to the street.

Now, Ginny thought, now he's going to tell me where we're going. But he didn't say anything immediately, he just offered his arm again, which she took. And they walked again until they came to Shaftesbury Avenue and the Palace Theatre. Then, Harry turned to her, and asked, "have you ever been to the theatre before?"

"No, I haven't."

"I've got us tickets for _Les Miserables_. I've never seen it, but it's supposed to be very good. It's been running for ages now."

Ginny smiled at him. "Let's go then. I'm always curious to see what Muggles do for entertainment."

What Muggles did for entertainment, Ginny decided, once she was seated and the musical had begun, was quite impressive. She would never have imagined the sort of effects that could be carried off without magic. In fact, she was sure that there must have been some magic involved somewhere. On top of that, the music was breathtaking and the story very moving. She felt tears spring to her eyes after a stunning solo sung by Eponine. She could understand just how Eponine felt. Turning to Harry in the darkened theatre, she saw he was looking back at her, his expression indicating he was just as moved by the performance. She gasped as he reached over to her and wiped an escaped tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

At the end of the performance, both remained in their places, waiting for the crowd to thin. Neither said a word until they were out in the street again. The evening was now well advanced, although Ginny had not been aware of time passing, as wrapped up as she had been in the musical. 

"Thank you, Harry, for that. That was absolutely beautiful." Ginny said, once they'd begun walking away from the theatre.

"Yes, it was." Harry replied. "Who could have imagined Muggles being capable of such magic."

"I'm sure there was magic there somewhere." Ginny said. "There just had to be."

Harry took her hand and led her onto a darkened side street. "Come on," he said.

"Where are we going now?"

"Back to the park we went to the other day. I think we can Disapparate from here all right. Do you remember where it is?"

Ginny smiled at the memory. "Oh, yes, I remember."

They appeared under the tree beneath which they'd shared a picnic and found the park deserted. The evening had grown chilly, and Ginny shivered a bit in her sleeveless dress. Harry must have noticed because he took off his jacket and handed it to her. She draped the expensive fabric over her shoulders gratefully. She looked up at Harry, who was standing very near to her now. "You know," she said, "Marius reminded me a lot of you."

Harry chuckled, looking at her rather sceptically. "Marius? You're nothing like Cosette." He ran the back of his hand over her cheek. "You're much more like Eponine."

"What?"

"Well, she was very noble, wasn't she?"

It was Ginny's turn to laugh. "She may have been noble, but she also died. Besides, I've never loved anyone in vain…"

She trailed off as Harry's gaze became very intense. He caressed her cheek again, whispering, "I hope you never do love in vain."

Ginny's breath caught. She had no time to answer him, because she suddenly found herself being kissed passionately. She lost herself in the sensation, and an indeterminate time later, when conscious thought returned, she found herself pinned tightly against the tree. Both of them had to pause and catch their breath.

Much later that night, Ginny lay in her bed unable to sleep. She and Harry had stayed in the park a while longer, but when the time finally came to return home, he'd kissed her chastely good night at her bedroom door. She wasn't too sure what to make of his actions. In the park, he'd kissed her with abandon, but here at home, he seemed to be holding something back. She was slightly annoyed with herself for this train of thought. She'd just spent the nicest evening out she'd ever experienced. Why should she spoil it for herself worrying about her feelings and Harry's? 

But one part of her brain insisted on wondering what would happen if she went into the living room and slipped into bed with him. The thought was becoming very tempting; he was lying out there only a few feet away. With any luck he wouldn't be asleep yet, either… She shook herself. This train of thought was doing her no good. It certainly wasn't helping her get to sleep. She pounded a fist into her pillow and rolled over. By rights she should be tired, but she had a sinking feeling it was going to be a long night.

A/N : A special thanks to Firebolt909 and Chryslin for their help with innuendo and Les Mis.


	10. Chapter Ten: Ghosts

Chapter Ten: ****

Chapter Ten:**Ghosts**

Ginny must have eventually fallen asleep, because she woke with a start on Sunday morning. She thought a noise had brought her so abruptly back to consciousness and listened carefully but heard nothing further. She lay back in bed and waited for her heart to stop pounding. Fumbling for her watch on her night table, she saw the hand pointing to "might as well get up". 

She sighed. She didn't feel like rising just yet, but, groggy as she felt, she didn't think she'd be able to get back to sleep now. She still felt restless and confused about Harry's actions. Last night had been wonderful. She still had difficulty equating the awkward teen-aged Harry she'd had a crush on with the man who'd given her roses and taken her out. They almost seemed like two different people. In a way, she supposed, they were. But somehow, she felt, something was missing. 

Sighing once more, Ginny decided she might as well get up, as her watch indicated. Lying in bed brooding would do her no good. She tied on her dressing gown, intending to take a quick shower. Opening her bedroom door quietly, in case Harry was still asleep, she stepped into the living room and froze. She suddenly felt wide awake. 

Harry was most definitely not asleep. He was standing in the middle of the living room, wearing no more than a pair of shorts, working out with some hand weights. His back was turned part-way towards her, and he didn't seem to be aware of her presence. She watched in fascination as his arm muscles flexed and unflexed repeatedly. It was obvious to Ginny that Harry had been doing this sort of thing for some time. His frame, while still wiry, had acquired a certain bulk to it. She felt her eyes widen and her mouth go dry as her brain registered the fine sheen of perspiration that covered his back. The air seemed to thicken about her. She finally had to lean against the wall for support and clench her fists in an effort to resist the urge to go over and touch…

She thought Harry must have felt her gaze burning into his skin, because he turned around without warning and saw her. Ginny forced herself to meet his eyes, feeling heat rise in her face at being caught staring. Harry cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you? I dropped a weight earlier." That explained the noise she'd heard. When she didn't answer, Harry went on, "I brought these over from my flat yesterday. Have to keep in shape, even if I am on holiday. I've already taken a week off…"

He trailed off, and took a step towards her. Ginny noticed he was no longer looking her in the eye, as he continued to advance. Following the direction of his gaze downward, she realised that she'd tied her dressing gown quite haphazardly, and, at the moment, was revealing more of her night dress than seemed wise. She blushed even more as she clutched the lapels of her dressing gown close to her throat.

Harry stopped moving towards her at this. She met his gaze again, absently noting the rigidity of his stance. She forced herself to speak. "I'm just going to take a quick shower. Carry on."

As she entered the bathroom, she thought she heard him make an incoherent sound, almost a splutter, but then she decided it must have been her imagination.

Ginny stepped out of the shower a few minutes later and reached for a towel to dry herself. She leaned over to squeeze the excess water from her hair before taking her wand to perform a _dessicatum _spell. Suddenly, she heard a noise coming from the living room. It sounded to her as if Harry had cried out in pain. She hastily tied the belt of her dressing gown and rushed to see what the trouble was.

She found him sitting on the sofa gripping his left shoulder with his right hand. Going over and sitting beside him, she asked in a concerned voice, "what is it, Harry?"

Harry looked at her, grimacing in pain. "Cramp. In my shoulder," he grated.

Ginny moved around to his other side. Pushing away his hand, she began to probe at his upper back, quickly locating a mass of knotted muscle near the junction of his shoulder and neck. Harry groaned, as she began to massage the spot. After a few minutes, she could feel the muscles relax beneath her fingers. She continued to knead, more gently now, as the remaining tension eased out of Harry's shoulder, until finally, he placed his hand over hers. He lifted her hand, entangling their fingers. Then he turned on the sofa until he was facing her, his eyes boring into hers. 

"Thank you," he said thickly. "I suppose I was overdoing…" His voice trailed off, and he brought her hand to his lips. Then he turned Ginny's hand over and kissed the delicate skin of her inner wrist, causing a shiver to pass through her. His eyes never left hers as he did this, and now she watched, transfixed, as those eyes moved closer until she was caught up in his kiss. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she gave herself over to the sensation of weightlessness that invaded her. She felt him grasp her by the hips and pull her into his lap, drawing her ever closer. She twined her hands in his hair, and returned his kiss with equal passion, until…

Suddenly he broke off, leaving her bereft. He stared at her for a moment, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and in that instant, Ginny knew he was going to stop them. No! shouted a voice in her head. Desperately she reached for him, before he could say anything, and brought his lips back to hers. She kissed him fervently then, felt his arms tighten around her, and knew she had won the battle with his control. She allowed him to take over then, letting him push her back onto the sofa. She trembled when she felt his fingers touch her throat and then trace a line down the centre of her sternum. His lips left hers to follow the same path, and at the same time she felt him tug at the belt of her dressing gown.

Suddenly, there came a knock at the front door. Harry and Ginny both jumped at the sound, and then lay motionless, staring into each other's eyes. Ginny could see that Harry was flushed and dishevelled and knew she must look much the same. For a long minute neither of them moved, as the full reality of the situation sunk in. Then the knock sounded again.

Harry sat up and ran a hand through his hair, which only served to make it look more unkempt. Finally he said, "you're not expecting your mother, are you?"

Ginny swallowed. She sincerely hoped her mother hadn't come back for another row. Unfortunately, Molly seemed to have a knack for turning up at the worst possible moment lately. Knowing she ought to answer, she said at last, "no, I'm not expecting anyone."

The knock was heard for a third time, and Ginny knew there was nothing for it. She stood up rather shakily, straightened her dressing gown, tightened the belt, and went to answer the door. 

"Wait," said Harry. "We don't know who's out there." He picked his wand up off the end table and moved to stand with her, as she opened the door. There on the threshold stood her father.

"Dad," Ginny said in a surprised tone, "what brings you by?"

Arthur didn't answer right away. His eyes widened in surprise for an instant, perhaps as a result of seeing Harry standing there with his wand trained on him. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Harry lower his wand. Arthur looked at them both for a long moment, taking in their appearance. Reflexively, Ginny raised a hand to her throat and pulled her lapels closer, a blush beginning to stain her cheeks. Arthur's tone, when he finally spoke, was rather concerned. "Good morning, Ginny. Do you mind if I come in?"

Ginny tried to hide her chagrin, but didn't know if she was very successful. "Sure, Dad. Have a seat." She indicated the sofa. "Erm… Look, if you don't mind, I need to get dressed." She saw Harry shoot her a rather desperate glance at the prospect of being left alone with her father, but she felt she had little choice. If she tried to discuss anything with her dad dressed as she was now, it would only serve to remind him of how bad the situation looked. Besides, she was grateful for the chance to escape for a few minutes to collect her scattered thoughts.

She took her time about getting dressed. Her mind was insisting on replaying certain events, and she found this distracting. She knew that if her father hadn't interrupted, she and Harry would have… She shook herself. Now was not the time to think about that. She still had her father to face, and she would just have to ignore the small triumphant voice in her head that kept on telling her she'd won. 

When she emerged from the bedroom, she saw that Harry had seated himself in an armchair and was at least talking to her dad in a calm manner. She also noted with a certain amount of relief that Harry had found a T-shirt to put on. He and her father seemed to have reached some sort of understanding, but Ginny did not find out what that was right away, because the two men stopped talking as soon as she entered the living room. Harry stood up. "Listen," he said, "if you don't mind, I'll be getting dressed myself."

Ginny turned to him. "Go on, then." As he brushed by her on his way to the bathroom, she felt him squeeze her arm fleetingly. She turned back to address her father. "Sorry, Dad, do you mind if we talk in the kitchen? Neither of us has had breakfast. Can I make you some breakfast or a cup of tea?"

"Just some tea, thanks. I've already eaten."

Once Arthur was seated at the kitchen table, Ginny set about preparing a quick breakfast. She didn't say anything right away. She hadn't the slightest idea how to begin to explain the situation. When the silence had stretched to the point of becoming uncomfortable, she finally resolved to break it. "I suppose Fred and George have been to see you." She set a mug of hot tea in front of her father as she said this, and saw a surprised look cross his face.

"No. What could they possibly have to do with any of this? I'm here, because your mother is very upset. I tried to get hold of you last night through the fire, but there was no answer." Ginny sighed. She thought he sounded disappointed and couldn't remember that he'd ever taken that tone with her. Perhaps with the twins a time or two, when they'd taken a joke too far, but never with her. The thought of the twins caused a spark of annoyance to pass through her. George had promised to have a word with Dad. She supposed he'd hadn't had time yet, but that thought was not enough to comfort her. Explanations were going to be difficult.

"Sorry about last night," she said, hoping to forestall any tricky questions. "We went out. I did ask George to have a word with you, but it looks as if he hasn't had a chance yet." Before her dad could say any more, Ginny decided she might as well tell him everything. She knew that he would be much more likely than her mother to hear her out and that he wouldn't allow his opinion to be so easily swayed by anything in the press. He'd had enough experience with the _Daily Prophet_ mis-reporting doings at the Ministry to understand how the media could manipulate public opinion. "If only Mum had the same understanding…," she thought wistfully.

Ginny steeled herself and launched into her explanation. "Since you said Mum is upset, you must have known that Harry was living here before you turned up this morning." She saw her father open his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Please hear me out, Dad, things are more complicated than Mum knows. Harry's living here, my suspension at the Ministry, Fred and George… they're all connected." She paused here to turn the bacon and take a sip of her tea. "I imagine it would be easier to understand if I began at the beginning." And so, she told her father about the strange events that had occurred over the previous week. 

She was still in the middle of her story, when Harry came into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She handed him a plate of bacon and eggs, along with a mug of tea, and filled a plate for herself, before sitting down and continuing. When she'd finished her explanation, she saw that her father's facial expression had gone quite serious. "I don't like this," he said slowly. "I wish you'd moved back home when this all started. You still could…"

Ginny cut him off with a bitter laugh. "Oh, yes, wouldn't that be fun? Do you want to live in the middle of a battleground between Mum and me?"

"Yes, Ginny, I see your point," he said resignedly. "Your mother is not one to let things like this go easily. And you, young lady, are a great deal like her. I'd still like to see you try to work things out with her, that's what concerns me more than anything. And as far as your safety is concerned…"

"Look, so far my safety hasn't been threatened. Not really. They may just be trying to shake me up. And I have taken steps to ensure my safety here. Now that I think about it, Fred and George must have hired me in order to keep an eye on me, as well. How would the situation be any different if I were living at the Burrow?"

"Your mother would say that if you were living at home, at least you wouldn't come out of the situation looking like a scarlet woman." Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but her father went on. "Your mother would say that, I won't. I know young people do things differently these days. When your mother and I were your age, there was no question of us living together before we were married. But times are different now, and you are an adult. It's no longer my place to tell you what you can and cannot do. Just promise me you'll be careful, whatever you do."

"I will, Dad. But would you do me a favour and try to make Mum understand what's going on? She'll listen to you where she won't listen to me."

Arthur smiled a bit at this, and his tone softened. "Ginny, I can try, if you think it will help smooth things over between the two of you, but I can't promise you miracles. Your mother has a very hard head where it concerns her children. But her heart's in the right place. You know, she does want you to be happy."

"Yes, I know Dad," said Ginny sadly. "We just don't happen to agree on what makes me happy."

Arthur rose to leave. "I'll be off home now." He gave Ginny a hug and then turned to Harry. "Watch out for my daughter," he said, extending his hand.

Harry took the proffered hand and shook it. "I will." It sounded like a promise. "For as long as she needs me."

When Arthur had gone, Harry and Ginny returned to their breakfast in silence. Ginny fully realised that they really ought to discuss what had happened between them earlier, but she had no idea how to broach the subject. As she drank the last of her tea, she began to feel rather irritated. After all, Harry was the one with experience in these matters. Shouldn't he be the one to bring it up? 

The silence stretched out between them, until finally Ginny was sure she'd go mad if she didn't say something, anything, to break it. "So, Harry, what did you and my dad talk about while I was off getting dressed?"

He jumped a bit when she said this. He'd obviously been off in his own little world. "Oh, erm, not much." She watched him shift uncomfortably in his seat. "He wanted to know why I was holding a wand on him. I just tried to explain the situation to him without arousing too much concern. I am glad you told him the whole story, though, because I don't think I did a very good job of it."

He fell silent again, and Ginny felt like screaming. After a moment he looked up and said, "Listen, I need to go out this morning. I've got to take those books back up to Hogwarts library." Ginny gaped at him, too stunned to say anything, as he stood, put his breakfast dishes in the sink, and left the kitchen. A minute later she heard the front door close behind him. 

**

Harry walked quickly through Hogsmeade, cursing himself for a coward. He really did need to return the books to the library, but the truth of the matter was he needed to get away and think. He knew that eventually he and Ginny would have to have a serious discussion, but at the moment he wasn't ready to face that possibility. He would have to sort out his own feelings first. And that was the problem. He'd never before had to consider the way personal feelings might become entangled with a physical relationship, and he found the prospect daunting. He knew he wanted Ginny, he ached for her, and after this morning he had little doubt that she felt the same. But there was something else underlying the want, something rather terrifying in its unfamiliarity. He'd confronted Lord Voldemort, but he didn't know how to confront this.

He arrived in the Entrance Hall no closer to forming any sort of conclusion than he had been when he'd left the house. It was a Sunday morning near the end of term, and the Hall was fairly deserted. In Harry's years at Hogwarts, he would have been outside enjoying the sunshine on such a day. If there had been students on the grounds today he hadn't noticed them, wrapped up as he had been in his thoughts.

He climbed the marble staircase, headed for the library. Turning a corner, he stopped short, surprised, as if he'd seen a ghost. In fact he had, but it was not a ghost he would have expected to see haunting the halls of Hogwarts. It was the ghost of Draco Malfoy.

Harry had not seen Malfoy since the day before Voldemort's final defeat. Draco looked exactly the same now as he had on that day five years ago, except for one thing. He was now white and transparent. To Harry, the change in appearance was a small one, given Draco's natural colouring. At any rate, he'd retained his sneering expression.

Malfoy, even in ghostly form, obviously recognised his former nemesis, for he crossed his arms and nodded. "Potter."

Harry nodded back, somewhat warily. He fought to keep a surprised tone out of his voice. "Malfoy."

"Fancy meeting you here. Having a look about the old place?"

The old animosity had transcended the grave, seemingly, for Malfoy hovered in mid-air, blocking Harry's path. Harry could have continued on through him, but he didn't feel like subjecting himself to the sensation of being submersed in ice. "You could say that. Listen, I'm in a bit of a hurry. Would you mind letting me pass?"

This admission was likely a mistake, Harry reflected, for it seemed to make Malfoy more talkative than ever. The after-life must not provide very much companionship, if Malfoy was content to pass the time making idle chit-chat with him.

"In good time, Potter," he drawled, "in good time. I was just having a look about, myself."

"Thought you'd have a look at the place where you met your demise?" Harry asked, waspishly.

"My _untimely_ demise," Malfoy corrected him, venomously, "at the hands of my _own father_."

So the rumours were true, Harry thought. Aloud, he said, "why don't you go haunt him, then?"

Malfoy laughed sardonically. "Oh, I have been, Potter. Lucius hasn't had a good night's sleep in the past five years."

"And what has that got to do with me?" Harry asked in an impatient voice.

"Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm just so desperate for someone to talk to that I'm willing to settle for you. Or maybe I could tell you something useful. You decide."

Harry decided quickly that Malfoy was trying to pull one over on him. After all, how could Draco have known he would come up to Hogwarts today? And what could Draco possibly tell him? And why would he want to? "I think I'd like to go through now, thanks."

Malfoy floated aside, letting Harry pass on to the library. He left the books with Madam Pince and went back outdoors. He didn't see Malfoy again; whatever place Draco had chosen to haunt now, it wasn't in Harry's path. He continued back down the road towards Hogsmeade, walking more slowly this time. 

He took his time, because he knew Ginny was waiting at home for him. The thought comforted him, yet at the same time frightened him. They needed to have a conversation he still was not prepared to face. It was a conversation he'd never needed to have with anyone until now. He paused, sitting down under a tree by the way, and considered why this should be. Why was Ginny so different from other women?

He thought of the image of Ginny laughing with her friends in the Common Room, an image he'd always carried with him like an icon. It had been both a burden and a solace to him in the dark years at the end of the war and immediately following. He had had to push Ginny, the person, away, but he had been able to retain the image, which was his and his alone. He could still hear the sound of her ringing laugh in his mind. At times he had resented that sound. It had served to remind him that laughter was not for him.

Later, he had been drawn to other women by their laughter. He had thought he could share it with them, but always there had been something missing. He realised now that he had been seeking a replacement, and that was why he'd never been satisfied. He could be satiated on a purely physical level, but he'd eventually found there was nothing beyond that with any of them. In the end, he was left feeling empty and unfulfilled.

He thought once more of Ginny as she had been at the wedding, and how she had seemed as untouchable as ever. But she hadn't been. He'd been allowed to dance with her, allowed to hold her, and it had seemed to him a reward for all the years he'd waited. 

Now when he tried to call up the memory of her laughter, he heard other things. He heard an angry young woman rowing with her mother, complaining about her job, railing at him for talking to her brothers… He was discovering just how complex a person she could be. The laughter was still there, but so were other facets: fierce independence, a strong will, determination, a sense of fun, sensuality… No, she wasn't perfect by any means, but there was so much to love about her.

Harry caught his breath. Was that what this feeling was? Love? He stood suddenly and began running toward Ginny's cottage. He had to tell her. He could do this now. He was ready to face her.

Harry burst through the front door, breathless from running. He quickly scanned the living room and saw to his disappointment that it was empty.

"Ginny?" he called. There was no reply. 

Perhaps she was in her garden. It was a pleasant day, after all. He strode through the kitchen, noting in passing that she'd left the dirty breakfast dishes in the sink. He went into the garden, expecting to see her weeding one of the flower beds, but he saw no sign of her. 

"Ginny!" he shouted. Again there was no answer, only the sound of his own voice echoing back to him.

Harry fought a rising sense of panic, as he walked quickly around the perimeter of the garden, looking for any possible sign of her. He saw nothing.

"Ginny!" he cried, although he was sure she would have answered by now, had she been within ear-shot.

He went back into the house and looked through all the rooms. She was nowhere to be found, nor did he see any sign that she'd left him a note telling him where she'd gone. He sat down in the living room and tried to think the situation through rationally, but the same thought kept leaping to his mind, the idea that she hadn't gone anywhere… willingly. His blood ran cold, and he buried his face in his hands. Had she been taken from him by whoever it was who had been threatening her?

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A/N: I owe a huge, huge thank you to Sue for her indispensable help with this chapter. I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but I was having a ton of trouble with it. If Sue hadn't helped me, it would have taken even longer! Sue, you RULZ, you ROX, you're totally KEWL. Everyone go read her "Deconstructing Harry", if you haven't already. It's in the library at [www.gryffindortower.net][1]_ , under the pen name **chryslin**._

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. (Note to Alphie: I don't care **where** you review, as long as you review, LOL; and to both you and Spitfyre: the pay-off is coming, don't worry).

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   [1]: http://www.gryffindortower.net/



	11. Chapter Eleven: Better Than Chocolate

Chapter Eleven: Better Than Chocolate ****

Chapter Eleven: Better Than Chocolate

Ginny returned to her cottage late in the afternoon to find it empty. A quick glance told her that things looked as if Harry hadn't come back at all. Going into the kitchen to heat some water for tea, Ginny saw that the dirty breakfast dishes were still in the sink. Impatiently, she waved her wand at them, and they began to wash themselves.

When her tea was ready, she sat down in the living room and took a sip from her mug. Where was Harry? It couldn't have taken him this long to take the books back to the library. She was still annoyed with him for walking out earlier; it had seemed as if he'd been running away. She looked over at Hedwig in her cage by the window. "I wish you could talk. You could tell me what Harry's been up to."

Hedwig could only hoot in reply, but it sounded as if she were commiserating.

Ginny kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the coffee table, as she continued to sip at her tea. Suddenly, the front door flew open, and Harry came storming in. He was breathing hard as if he'd been running, his hair was practically standing on end, and his eyes had a wild look to them. Ginny stood up, and they stared at each other for a moment. She saw relief spread over his features. Then he came towards her, and, before she had time to say anything, she found herself crushed against him. After a moment, she pushed at him. "Harry, I can hardly breathe."

He loosened his hold on her then. He stood back, his hands on her shoulders, and stared at her, still trying to catch his breath. His face had now lost its relieved expression; now he looked rather put out. "Thank God! Where the hell were you?" he demanded, at last. "I came back, and you weren't here…and I thought… I thought…"

"You thought _what_?" Ginny began to feel even more annoyed. Just what was he on about?

"How can you ask that? Didn't those death threats you've received leave an impression on you?" His hands slid from her shoulders to grasp her by the upper arms. She gaped at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. 

"Death threats? When the hell did I ever receive a death threat? Just this morning I told my own father that my safety hadn't been threatened, and you didn't say a word! And now you're going on about bloody death threats?" Her voice was rising along with her temper.

"You only told him _that _so he wouldn't be so worried."

That much was true. Ginny gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, yes," she was forced to admit, "but this is the first time you've ever brought up anything about a death threat in front of me."

"I thought it went without saying. Anyway, what was I supposed to think, when I came back and found you gone? There was no note, nothing! I couldn't have taken it if…" He paused here. He must have realised he was shouting now. Ginny couldn't ever remember hearing Harry raise his voice in anger. His face was flushed, and his hands were gripping her harder than ever.

"If you can't even accept that you're in danger," he began again, "how can you possibly take care of yourself?"

Ginny gasped, as the words echoed in the air between them. How dare he treat her as if she were a child? Why, he was no better than her mother! A wave of anger and pain washed over her as this realisation struck. She narrowed her eyes at him, as she brought up her hand and slowly began to peel his fingers away from her arms one at a time. By now, they were gripping hard enough to leave bruises.

"I don't need someone to look after me. I'm not a child any more." She said this in a quiet but firm tone, one that belied her anger at his presumption. In spite of herself, she felt tears begin to well up. She turned away from him, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"Ginny, I…" His tone was quieter now, too. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, but this only enraged her further. Her head and heart were both pounding now. He was making her feel as if she were twelve years old and still needed rescuing. An image came to her mind unbidden, a memory of a seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, when she'd been the only one in her class to successfully conjure a Patronus. Her Patronus had been Harry himself, a fact which had seemed completely embarrassing at the time. Now the image came back in full force, mocking her.

She whirled around to face him. "No, Harry," she spat. "I don't need anyone, and I sure as hell don't need you! I can bloody well look after myself!"

"But…"  


"Get out," she said, dully. 

"Gin…"

Ginny didn't want to hear any more. "_Go!_"

He stood looking stricken, as if she'd done him physical violence. Suddenly, it appeared to her as if he were the child now. She could see in him the lost eleven-year-old boy who didn't know how to access Platform 9 ¾. She saw hurt in his eyes, and she quickly looked away. She couldn't face the thought that she'd hurt him, no matter what he'd just been saying to her.

"Just go," she repeated. She turned away to stare intently at the wall, a silent tear escaping to course down her cheek. She swiped angrily at her eyes before another could fall. She didn't turn around until she'd heard the front door close softly behind her. Looking around her living room, she noticed Harry's things lying about. They seemed to clutter up the room, where before she'd given them little thought. She walked over to where he'd left his weights on the floor and gave one of them a kick, but she only succeeded in stubbing her toe – she'd forgotten she'd taken her shoes off earlier. She swore to herself and went into the kitchen to pour out her tea which had gone cold.

**

Ginny looked at the bewildering array of joke paraphernalia on the shelves in front of her and sighed. There was more to working in her brothers' shop than she'd thought. Although Fred had given her some sort of memory-enhancing potion (which she'd taken with a certain amount of suspicion, since she wasn't sure of the legality of such things, on top of her brothers' reputation) to help her learn faster that morning when she'd reported for work, she still had trouble locating items for customers. Even knowing Fred was nearby in case she needed help did not make the job seem less daunting. At the moment she was trying to find Black Soap (guaranteed to grow live fungus on the user's hands). She couldn't imagine why people would even want some of the items sold. There were comedy hernia kits, fake vomit, skunk juice that didn't wash off for days, realistic-looking flesh wound kits … All of it "guaranteed to break the ice at parties". Ginny didn't know who had more twisted minds, her brothers for inventing the stuff, or their customers for buying it. She breathed a sigh of relief, as she finally found what she was looking for next to the boxes of Boiling Bath powder.

On top of all that, Ginny was finding it necessary to learn the prices of things off by heart in order to better answer customers' questions, and there was some sort of mysterious private collection. Fred had told her to send any customers who asked about it to see him. Ginny didn't even want to ask about what sort of items the private collection contained.

It didn't help matters that she was starting her new job on very little sleep. The argument she'd had with Harry was affecting her more than she liked to admit. His reaction to her absence had seemed rather extreme to her, but she'd spent some time thinking about it, and had reached a few conclusions. For one, she realised she should at least have left him a note. She was ready to apologise on that score. For another, she recognised that he'd been in a state of panic, which she was able to look upon as rather touching once her own anger had faded. She also thought that he really must care for her a great deal to get himself into such a state. Her stomach gave a funny little lurch each time this idea entered her mind. She wasn't sure she was ready to forgive him for treating her like a child just yet, though. A lot would hinge on what he said to her the next time they saw each other. It sobered her to think she didn't know when, exactly, that would be. She'd discovered she'd got used to him being there. Her house had seemed very lonely this morning when she'd taken her breakfast alone.

The sound of a bell brought her out of her thoughts. A new customer must have entered the shop. She looked up to see a tall, thin man with sloping shoulders, glasses and a rather weak chin. Ginny did not like the appraising look he gave her, but he was a customer, and she reminded herself she must treat him as such. Forcing herself to smile, she asked in what she hoped was a bright voice, "Good afternoon. May I help you?"

"Yes, you most certainly may," he answered in a rather oily voice. "Are you new? I don't believe I've seen you in here before."

Ginny was liking this less and less. There was something in the man's manner…"Yes, I am. It's my first day. Now is there anything I can do for you?"

"I'm sure there is," he said in an insinuating tone. "I'd like something from the, erm, private collection."

"Oh, well, you'll have to ask Fred about that." She nodded in her brother's direction. He was already waiting on another customer. "He'll be with you directly."

The man positively leered at her. "I think I'd like for _you_ to show me the private collection, if you don't mind." Now Ginny was sure she didn't want to know what was in the private collection. She heard the bell tinkle again, and looked up to see that Fred was finished with his customer. 

"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to do that. Fred will be happy to serve you." She turned to wave Fred over, but a hand on her arm stopped her. She cringed at the man's touch and looked him straight in the eye, ready to tell him off. Customer or no, she didn't care at the moment, but just then Fred came over to them, his facial expression one of distaste. The man took his hand off Ginny's arm. 

"Is there a problem here, Ginny?"

"This man insists on seeing the private collection. Why don't you take care of it, Fred?"

"Oh, I'll be glad to. But first, I should introduce you. Ginny, this is Richard Bradley, a very loyal customer. Richard, this is my _sister _Ginny Weasley." Fred said the word "sister" in such a way as to serve as a warning for Richard to back off. Then the two men headed for the back of the shop.

Ginny let out a long breath. She hoped that she wouldn't have to deal with customers like him very often. She knew she would find it difficult to treat them very nicely for long. Looking at the clock on the wall, she saw it was almost closing time. She breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long day. Reluctantly, she remembered that she'd be going home to an empty house…

The bell rang again, and she steeled herself to face another customer. But when she looked in the direction of the door, she saw that Harry had entered the shop. She thought he looked repentant; she sincerely hoped he was, because the moment she looked into his eyes, she knew she didn't want to row with him. Not wanting to make things too easy for him, she schooled her features into a neutral expression. 

"Hello, Harry. What brings you by?"

"I think I owe you an explanation. Is there anywhere we can go to talk?"

"If you wait a few minutes, I'll be finished for the day…" She felt herself begin to smile, and saw a hopeful look come into Harry's eyes. Then he was holding out something in his hand. She looked down and saw a small, box wrapped in cream coloured paper and tied with a ribbon.

"What's this?" she asked curiously. 

Harry began to grin. "Belgian chocolates. A sort of peace offering…"

Ginny looked into his eyes and grinned back.

"Oy! Take it somewhere else! Preferably out of my sight." Fred had just come to the front of the shop. Over Harry's shoulder, Ginny saw Richard Bradley go out into Diagon Alley. "I suppose I can let you go for the day, Gin," Fred continued. "We'll show you how to close up tomorrow."

Harry and Ginny said good evening to Fred, and Ginny started towards the back exit. "Let's go out through the alley, Harry. I don't want to run into that man again."

Harry turned to look at the door through which Bradley had left the shop. "Why?" he asked.

"There's something I don't like about him. Let's just leave it at that."

They went into the alley behind the shop. "Where to, then?" Harry asked quietly.

"Hogsmeade," Ginny replied simply. She thought Harry looked relieved when she said that; she felt a certain amount of relief, herself.

"What about supper?"

"I'll fix us something. Then we can talk."

And so they went back to Ginny's cottage. Ginny changed out of the robes she'd worn to work and went into the kitchen to prepare supper. Harry insisted on helping, so she set him to making salad. She had the impression he was reluctant to let her out of his sight. Rather than being annoyed with him for hovering, the idea caused a feeling of warmth to spread through her. It was as if something had changed about him since yesterday morning, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

They sat down at the table with their plates of food. Harry took a deep breath and began to apologise immediately. "I'm sorry for what I said to you yesterday, Ginny. There was no excuse for that. I came back from Hogwarts, and you were nowhere to be found, and, well, I just panicked. I imagined all sorts of horrible things had happened to you…"

Ginny cut him off here. "I owe you an apology, as well. I should have left you a note. It's just that I'm used to living alone, and I just wasn't thinking. If I'd had any idea you were going to react that way, I would have thought twice. But where did you go? When I came home yesterday, you'd gone out again…"

"Yes, I'd been here and gone again. For what it's worth, I didn't leave you a note either. But I was looking for you, wasn't I? Or at least looking for clues…"  


"Clues?"

"I looked all over the house first, and when I didn't find anything, I went back to Hogwarts…" Ginny was perplexed. Why would he have been looking at Hogwarts? The question must have shown in her face, for Harry continued. "Yesterday, when I took the books back to the library, I ran into someone unexpected. Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy? I thought he was dead."

"Yes, he is. I saw his ghost, though. And his ghost said something rather cryptic to me. I discounted it at the time, but when I came back here and found you gone, I wasn't so sure, so I went back to find him. I was just as angry at myself for ignoring Malfoy. What if something _had _happened to you, and he was trying to warn me?"

This was getting more and more curious. "What did he say to you?"

"Something about his father, and that perhaps he'd be able to tell me something useful. I thought he was having me on. How could he have known I'd turn up at Hogwarts yesterday, after all? But it doesn't matter. I couldn't find him when I went back to look."

"So you think he may know something about whoever's been threatening me?"

"I don't know. He may, and I intend to find out. Think about it: we know there are likely Death Eaters involved in this, and his father was in the inner circle. He told me he'd been haunting Lucius. If Lucius is tied in with this, Draco may know something. I just need to figure out how one goes about finding a ghost. I don't think a Summoning Charm will do it. But enough about that. Could you tell me one thing? Where did you go yesterday?"

"I went to visit my friend, Pauline. She called me through the fire right after you went out, and I decided I needed to get out, myself. I'm sorry about not letting you know, but I honestly didn't think I'd be gone so long. Now I'd like you to tell me something. Where did you go last night?"

Harry reddened and mumbled something Ginny couldn't hear. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

Harry cleared his throat. "I said, I spent last night sleeping in your garden." Ginny gaped at him, and then burst out laughing. The warm feeling was spreading through her once more. "I don't see how it's so funny," Harry added, in a slightly irritated tone. "The ground out there isn't exactly comfortable. I'm hoping you'll forgive me for what I said yesterday so I can have my sofa back."

Ginny reached out and took his hand. She was thankful he was making this easy for her. She really did want to forgive him. "I think I can do that. Can't have you sleeping on the ground, you might get a cramp." She watched Harry's jaw drop, but she went on as if she were simply talking about the weather. "Do you mind doing the washing up?" She got up from the table and went into the living room, leaving him to gape after her.

Sitting down on the sofa, she took out her box of chocolates, opened and inspected them carefully. She'd lived too long with several mischievous older brothers to accept anything new to eat on faith. Deciding she ought to be safe, she chose one and took a bite. It was delicious. She finished it with relish, and tried another. Then she got up, feeling restless. Music, yes. That's what she needed. Something calming. She went over to look through her CDs.

She settled on her new Sarah McLachlan; that was mainly quiet and calming. She put the CD in her player and tapped it with her wand to start the music. As she did so, she felt Harry slip up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He rested his cheek against the top of her head for a moment, then she felt him bring up a hand to push her hair aside and plant soft kisses on the nape of her neck. Ginny's knees turned to jelly, but at the same time she wanted to scream. This was doing nothing to ease the feeling if awareness that had been growing in her ever since they'd got home; it was making it fall all the more heavily over her.

She turned in his embrace, and he drew her in, starting to slowly dance to the sultry music. Her restlessness increased, as the words of the refrain washed over her:

__

…Kiss you so hard

I'll take your breath away

And after I'd wipe away the tears,

Just close your eyes dear…

She knew Harry was just as aware of the lyrics as she was, because he stopped dancing and looked down into her eyes. Then his lips were on hers, and she knew she was lost. She leaned into the kiss and pressed her body against his. She had to; she wouldn't have been able to stand otherwise. She gasped as his lips found the spot on her neck where her pulse was now pounding out of control. She felt his teeth graze an earlobe, then his mouth was devouring hers again.

Harry moved his hand from her waist to gently cup one of her breasts. Ginny stiffened slightly. As much as she had wanted him to touch her, as much as she enjoyed it, it still came as a surprise to her, because he had been holding back for so long. Harry ceased his exploration of her mouth and leaned his forehead against hers. She could see that his pupils were dilated, their green irises shrunk to barely perceptible rings. He moved his hand back down to her waist, gripping tightly. He swallowed once, trying to bring his breathing under control. "Ginny," he whispered in a lowered timbre, "I want to make love to you." He punctuated this statement by pushing his hips against her so she could not mistake the effect she had on him.

Ginny tried unsuccessfully to bring her own thoughts into focus; she found it impossible to concentrate on formulating a coherent response. Finally she got out, "I never have before." She was surprised to hear the husky quality in her own voice.

"Let me teach you."

Ginny was just barely able to force the word "yes" from her mouth, when his lips descended on hers again. He brought his hand back to her breast, the thumb brushing over its tip, causing her to arch against him. Harry broke off the kiss and brought her right palm to his mouth. She felt his lips and then his tongue trace a line along its centre. Then he took her by that hand and led her into the bedroom.

He laid his glasses on the night table. Then he turned back to her, and his lips descended on hers once more, as his fingers began to work at the buttons of her blouse. She could feel them tremble slightly as one by one each button was freed. "Can he be nervous?" she asked herself. Ginny herself felt surprisingly calm. There was something so right about this somehow.

That thought emboldened her, and suddenly her hands were itching to touch him. She brought them up and ran them softly over the back of his neck, into his hair, and then down over his shoulders and chest. The sound that he made in his throat at this was decidedly animal, but it only made her feel even more audacious. Then he was staring at her, a wicked-looking grin taking over his features. "I don't believe I'll have to teach you much at all," he whispered as the last button of her blouse was released. 

He pushed the blouse back from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, revealing a silken camisole. He grasped the straps with his fingers and began to lower them, as his lips began to trace a sensual path along her neck and then further downward.

Ginny cried out, and then she felt herself toppling backwards. Unbeknownst to her, Harry had been slowly backing her towards the bed, and she landed on mattress with a surprised giggle. Then he was lying on top of her, kissing her again, as her fingers worked their way underneath his shirt. He paused for a moment to pull off the offending garment, and when he lay atop her again, the skin to skin contact made her cry out again.

She heard Harry chuckle. Looking up at him in the moonlight that filtered in through the window, she could see that the wicked grin was back. Then his lips were back at her neck again, while his hands moved lower down her body. She gasped as his lips, tongue and teeth soon followed the path his hands had blazed, and his hands moved lower still to work at the fastening of her jeans. All her senses were strangely heightened now, and she shivered as she felt cool air on her thighs.

Harry stepped back and gazed down at her. Although she knew she was completely naked now before him, and that he could see it, bathed in the moonlight as she was, she felt completely unabashed. There was something in his gaze that made her feel cherished, and the tone of his voice, when he spoke, only confirmed that feeling. "Ginny," he said in a very hoarse but almost reverential tone, "you're so beautiful. More than I could have imagined. I feel as if I've waited my whole life for this." He stretched out beside her on the bed and ran a tender finger along her jaw line. He leaned down and kissed her very softly, at first, before the passion took over again and his kiss became hungrier.

Ginny shuddered under his touch as it became ever more intimate. Soon there was almost nowhere on her body that his hands hadn't caressed, that his lips hadn't kissed. There seemed to be a knot of pleasure building inside her, growing ever larger yet ever tighter, and when it burst, it took her by surprise, and she cried out his name.

At some point, Ginny had no idea when, Harry had managed to shed his trousers, and he now lay atop her completely naked as she. He leaned down to kiss her lips again, and she could feel power in him barely suppressed; he was trembling with it. He reached down and caressed her thigh, raising her knee when he reached it, inviting her to wrap her legs around his waist. He tried to take her carefully, she thought, although the pain of his entry made her gasp and wince slightly. She felt a hand touch her cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered. She could hear his fight for control in his tone. She reached up to bring his mouth down to hers, and in so doing caused their bodies to shift. This was obviously the limit of Harry's control, for now he began to move, but the pain was gone now; there was only the pleasure that began to build again. At last, she felt him tense over her, heard him cry out, saw his face contort, and she knew he must be experiencing the same pleasure that she had. The knowledge that she could do that for him gave her an incredible sense of power.

He collapsed over her, kissing her with abandon. Then he relaxed and rolled off her, bringing her with him, enfolding her in his embrace. Slowly, Ginny spiralled back down to earth and felt sleep begin to overtake her.

"I love you, Harry."

The thought came unbidden to her mind. A split second later, she realised she must have whispered that thought aloud in the dark, because she felt Harry's arms tighten around her, holding her tighter. Secure in his embrace, she drifted off to sleep.

**

****

The first thing Harry saw when he awoke the next morning was Ginny. She was lying asleep, her face at peace, her hair spread out on the pillow. Idly, Harry lifted a tendril of her hair and turned it around his finger. He felt a sense of amazement to be waking up next to her. Inevitably, he thought of the previous night and her generous response to him. She was so genuine, entirely without artifice, so unlike any other woman he had ever known. 

Harry reached over and touched her cheek; Ginny stirred but did not wake. He thought back to Ron and Hermione's wedding. "With my body I thee worship," they'd repeated to each other. Harry had always found this line odd. Until last night he'd never understood it, but now its full significance engulfed him like a wave. That's what he'd done with Ginny, he'd worshipped her. It was as much a first for him as it had been for her.

Harry propped his head up on his hand, and looked down at her. He ran a gentle finger down the side of her face, then he leaned over and kissed her eyelids, cheeks, and finally her lips. Then he gazed at her beloved face once more. Beloved. He had a name now for the overwhelming rush of joy he felt to be here with her. He hadn't been able to tell her yesterday when he saw she was safe. He'd been far too panicked, and part of that panic had been the realisation that she could hold such power over him. But now he was ready. He couldn't hold this back any more.

Ginny's eyes were open now, slowly coming into focus, then their chocolate centres were looking steadily back at him. "Harry," she whispered, her cheeks beginning to stain.

Harry smiled at her. "Good morning." He reached for one of her hands and kissed it. "Ginny, last night you gave me a very precious gift, and I haven't thanked you properly for it."

Ginny coloured further, but she continued to meet his gaze. "You mean my virginity," she said quietly.

"Yes, there was that, but that's not what I was referring to. Two precious gifts, then. What I meant was your love."

"I don't know where that came from, Harry. I didn't even realise I'd said it out loud."

Harry's heart began to pound. "Are you going to take it back then? Please don't." He hoped he didn't sound like he was begging.

Ginny reached up to him, and pulled his face toward hers. Her kiss was rather forceful. When she'd released him, she said, "No, I'm not going to take it back."

Harry felt a smile spread over his features. He thought it must be the biggest grin he'd ever had on his face, but he was past caring. "I'm glad, Ginny, because there's something I need to tell you. It's taken me nearly forever, but I've finally come to my senses. It's been slowly dawning on me that I've been in love with you for the longest time, probably ever since sixth year."

Harry's grin broadened even further, if that were possible, at her sharp intake of breath and her shocked expression. "Sixth year," she repeated in an incredulous whisper. "Sixth year," she said again a little louder. "And you never said anything…"

He became serious once more. "I couldn't, Ginny, you know that."

"Yes, I do. But after the war, you went away…"

"I did. As much as I needed to leave, I regret that I had to leave you behind. I think I lost my way during that time, and it's taken me too long to find it again. But I have now. It's with you." 

Ginny reached up to touch his cheek, her eyes steadily returning his gaze. "I think I've always known in my heart there was never anyone else but you." Harry's own heart leapt to hear her. She brought her lips up to his, and soon the passion was rising between them once more. It was a long time before either of them considered getting out of bed.

__

A/N: The list of joke shop items (most of them, anyway) was shamelessly nicked from a Monty Python sketch. Thanks to Paula and Sue for their help with the argument. Thanks to my editor for his patience. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, especially to Caitlyn who made my night with her review the other evening. All of you keep me going!

The story of Harry being Ginny's Patronus is included in the first chapter of my prequel, On Her Own.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Back to the Burrow

****

Chapter Twelve: Back To the Burrow

Tap! Tap! Tap!

A dull sound invaded Harry's dreams. He rolled over, pulling the covers over his head and reaching over instinctively with one arm. It landed on an empty space in the bed beside him. This, combined with the tapping sound which was heard again, brought him out of blissful sleep and into consciousness. He sat up in bed, his brain registering that it was still rather early in the morning, that it was Saturday morning. What was Ginny doing up already? He heard the sound of water running in the bathroom and remembered that Ginny had to go to work today. 

The tapping came again. Harry sighed, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and reached for his glasses. Grabbing a pair of plaid boxers that were hanging over the bedpost where they'd been hastily flung the night before, he put them on and went to see what the noise was. An owl which Harry did not recognise was tapping on the living room window, a letter tied around one of its legs. He let the owl in and untied the piece of parchment which was addressed to Ginny in a hand he thought looked familiar. The owl must have been instructed to wait for a reply, for it did not immediately fly off. He went to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Ginny," he called, "you've had an owl."

The sound of running water stopped, and in the next instant, Harry was greeted with the sight of a dripping Ginny wrapped in a towel. "Sorry, I didn't hear you…" Her voice trailed off as she smiled up at him. "Good morning," she said, reaching up to kiss him. "Are you coming to join me?"

Harry drank in her appearance before replying. "As tempting as that sounds, do you want to be late to work again?"

"No, I suppose not." She sounded disappointed. "I've been teased enough as it is for the three other times."

He stared a bit more and then cleared his throat. "Right. You've had an owl, and it's waiting around for an answer." He held out the parchment towards her.

As Ginny held out a hand to take the letter, Harry thought he saw a shadow pass across her features—the last two owls she's received had not been pleasant—but it was quickly gone. Looking at the writing on the envelope, Ginny remarked, "It's from my mum."

Now Harry knew why he hadn't recognised the owl. Errol had finally gone to his reward several years ago, and Ron had kept Pigwidgeon with him. The senior Weasleys had obviously acquired a new post owl. 

Ginny broke open the seal on the letter. "I wonder why she's writing me, rather than either coming by or calling through the fire?"

Harry could think of a reason or two, but wasn't sure he ought to mention them. In any case, Ginny didn't seem to expect him to answer: she was reading.

"It's an invitation," she said once she'd finished reading. "She's invited us to Sunday supper." She handed the letter to Harry so that he could see for himself. Harry knew that Molly liked to have her children come to the Burrow for supper at least once a month. It had become a sort of family tradition. He suspected that Ginny begged off as often as she could, but he didn't see any way to avoid attending this gathering. Ron and Hermione were due to return from their honeymoon today. Harry was sure this was the reason why Ginny had been sent a written invitation and why the owl was waiting around for her reply. 

He handed the letter back to Ginny, having glanced through it. It had been carefully worded to avoid mentioning him by name. "How are you going to answer that?"

"Well, we're going, aren't we?"

"It sounded as if your mum expects you there. She didn't mention me at all."

"I'm not going without you," Ginny answered firmly. "I'll tell her to expect both of us."

Harry wasn't sure how he should respond to this, so he said nothing as Ginny rummaged for a quill and proceeded to write her reply. On one hand, he would be glad to see his friends again. On the other, the strained relations between Ginny and Molly might make things uncomfortable at the very least. And then there was Molly's reaction to him. He wondered again what had happened to change her attitude towards him. He thought of asking Ginny if she knew anything about it, but he didn't want to be responsible for making her late to work again. He could ask her tonight.

After Ginny had left for the joke shop, Harry went back up to the Hogwarts library. He had spent the majority of the past few days there, researching ghosts in hopes of finding any bit of information that would help him locate Draco Malfoy. He'd had a look around the castle itself to begin with, but he couldn't find anyone else who had seen Draco's ghost. In desperation, he'd even hunted up Moaning Myrtle in her toilet (which was still permanently out of order) but to no avail. Myrtle had been pleased enough to see Harry and even more pleased to learn that a young male ghost had been hanging about the place. She would have been quite happy to share her toilet with Malfoy, on whom she'd spied more than once in the Prefect's bathroom (as she all too gleefully informed Harry). But she'd had no first-hand information for him, and neither had any of the other ghosts Harry had been able to locate. 

And so Harry found himself back at the library, where he was able to page through books in peace, now that the end of term was in sight. Students were either all writing exams or kept so busy studying that his presence passed relatively unnoticed. But he was no closer to learning how to summon a ghost than he had been days ago. He closed the book he'd been reading, _Famous Ghosts, Spectres and Phantoms_, with an impatient sigh. The closest he'd come to finding anything useful was a paragraph or two on Muggle seances. He was not surprised to learn they were fraudulent, although he was glad enough about this fact. For a moment, he'd been afraid the next step would have been to pay Professor Trelawney a visit. 

By now, Harry had looked through all the available books that looked as if they might contain something useful, but he hadn't tried the Restricted Section yet. He went to the back of the library, and almost laughed out loud when he found himself glancing around to see if Madam Pince was watching. The requirement for students to present a signed note from a professor was still solidly ingrained. 

Stepping over the rope that cordoned off the Restricted Section, Harry perused the book titles. He found a few that looked promising, and took them from their shelf, noting with relief that the books did not begin screaming in blood-chilling voices. He was obviously not infringing on any rules. 

Several hours later, he thought he'd found something at last in a tome entitled _Fantastic Spells for Enchanting Phantoms_. He could see why these spells were in the Restricted Section. Their use on ghosts was perfectly legal, but many of them could be used with equal effectiveness on people who were still alive, and, used in this manner, they constituted Dark Magic. Here among them was a simple enough incantation which would enable him to summon a ghost: _hic spiritus_. Harry grinned to himself as he read the page. It sounded more like the name of a wine merchant than anything else. There was also a spell or two mentioned that would come in handy if Draco should prove uncooperative. They would allow Harry to have a limited amount of control over him.

Looking at his watch, he saw it was almost time to head back to Hogsmeade. He'd promised Ginny he'd take care of supper, and besides, he was not ready to attempt locating Draco just yet. Ginny had received nothing in the way of a threat for over a week now. Although it seemed odd to Harry that they (whoever "they" were) should suddenly stop, he felt no sense of urgency about the situation. He also wanted to choose his location when he talked to Malfoy, and he felt Ginny's cottage would not be ideal.

He took out a roll of parchment and a quill. He ran the quill over the appropriate passages in _Fantastic Spells for Enchanting Phantoms_, and then tapped the quill with his wand as he muttered, "_copia_." Then he tapped the quill a second time as he held it over the parchment and muttered, "_colla_." The quill immediately began writing the passages verbatim. Hermione had discovered this highly useful spell during seventh year, and it had saved her, as well as Ron and Harry, from writer's cramp while doing research. Harry suspected that Hermione had made even better, if surreptitious, use of this spell during her years at Oxford.

Harry returned the books he'd been looking at to their shelf in the Restricted Section while the ink was drying on the parchment. Then he packed up his things and set out for home. He'd been thinking of Ginny's cottage more and more as his home than his own flat. Not that he'd ever spent much time there. It was just a place to sleep for the most part. But it was beginning to seem ridiculous to pay rent on that place when he was living at Ginny's. Once the danger had passed, he didn't think he'd be moving out now… At least, he hoped not. 

This was another subject that he needed to discuss with her, but he was unsure how he should bring it up. He thought he understood now how much Ginny valued her independence, and he didn't want it to seem to her as if he was encroaching on that in any way. In any case, once the Quidditch season began again, he wouldn't be underfoot all the time. He thought with a jolt that training would begin at the beginning of August. If the mystery behind all the threats wasn't cleared up by then, he would find it difficult to leave. He would just have to hope they got to the bottom of this by then. 

Harry was just putting the finishing touches on their supper, some take-away he'd got at The Three Broomsticks, when he heard Ginny come home. He poured two glasses of the wine he'd picked up to go with the meal, and went to greet her. She looked tired and harried; it must have been a long, hard day for her. She shot a grateful look at the glass of wine in Harry's hand and gave him a wan smile. 

Harry set the glasses down so that he could greet Ginny properly. Pulling her into his arms, he said, "You look tired, love. Rough day?" 

Ginny sank into his embrace, hugging him tightly. "It's like a mad-house in that place on Saturdays. I need to get off my feet, but first, let me change."

She went into the bedroom, returning five minutes later to settle beside Harry on the sofa. She took a few sips from her glass before telling Harry about her day. The worst customer had been the last, a woman with two young boys of around nine and ten. The woman had allowed them to run wild through the shop, pulling things down from the shelves and not putting them back. Both boys had thrown tantrums when told they could only have one joke item each, until their mother gave in and bought them what they wanted. Then they'd asked for Dungbombs. Ginny had had to explain that Dungbombs were not sold at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which had brought on more displays of temper from the boys. Ginny had done her best to placate them, and their mother, in the mean time, had given her several appraising looks. "I swear," Ginny said, "she must read _Witch Weekly_, the way she was looking at me. I'm glad most of our customers are men."

Harry wasn't so sure he agreed with that, as he remembered the customer that Ginny had wanted to avoid last Monday, but he knew better than to mention it. Instead he asked, "Ginny, what do you want to do?"

She turned to him with a puzzled look on her face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you aren't planning on making a career of selling practical jokes, are you?" Ginny smiled at this and shook her head. "And when your suspension at the Ministry is lifted?"

"You don't think I'd consider going back to that job, do you?"

"No. That's why I'm asking you. What do you want to do?"

Ginny settled back against him and sipped at her wine while she considered. "I don't really know, Harry. Any job I've had, I had to take out of necessity. I've never had to consider what I _wanted_ before."

"Would you want to return to the Ministry, but in another capacity?"

"I don't know. That would seem the easiest choice with my family connections. I've just never really thought about it." She lapsed into silence for a while, and Harry was content to just sit with her and hold her. "You know," she began again, "there's something quite unfair about all this…"

Now it was Harry's turn to be puzzled. "About what?"

"About the whole _Witch Weekly_ thing. They can make or break your reputation, and no one ever does anything about it. They're allowed far too much license. Why doesn't the Ministry do something about it?"

Harry was sceptical. "And just which department would that fall under?"

"I don't know… Magical Law Enforcement?"

"As far as I know, there are no laws in the wizarding world against that sort of thing. In the Muggle world there are laws against defamation of character and the like, but magazines like _Witch Weekly_ still exist. There are sometimes lawsuits brought against them, but they're hard to prove one way or the other."

"Yes, but if the laws exist, it must help matters."

"I suppose so. I don't know."

"Well, I think something should be done about it. If I were to go back to the Ministry, I think it would be to try to change some of our laws. I'll have to ask Dad about that. What?" Ginny asked, in a somewhat injured tone, as Harry began laughing.

He tried unsuccessfully to hide his amusement. "Sorry, I'm not laughing at the idea. It's just that you suddenly reminded me of Hermione back in fourth year. Remember all the S.P.E.W. business?"

"Vaguely."

"Maybe you should ask her tomorrow about how to go about carrying on a crusade." 

"Stop teasing me. I'm serious about this. Maybe Mum would have an easier time accepting our situation if it weren't for all those articles."

Harry thought he saw something flicker in the depths of her eyes as she said this, but he couldn't be sure. In any case, this was something he'd been wanting to ask Ginny about, but had been unsure how to bring the subject up.

"Gin, about your mum," he began.

"Yes?"

"Well, she's got a problem with me, obviously. Do you have any idea what it is? It's more than the articles, isn't it?"

Ginny paused to consider before replying. "I don't know, Harry. I'm sure the articles have something to do with it. You've seen for yourself that Mum and I don't get on together very well. I have to admit, I haven't been around her enough to know if there's more to it than that. It's possible she was just looking for another reason to criticise my life. But still…"

"No, there's something personal to it, I'm sure. She'd never before spoken to me the way she did last week. It was as if she were blaming me for the situation, not you. But I don't understand where it was all coming from."

"I could try asking Dad tomorrow if you like. I won't get anywhere with Mum, as you can well imagine."

This brought another uncomfortable thought to Harry's mind. "How are we going to avoid a scene tomorrow?"

"Oh, I doubt there will be an ugly scene. Mum will be on her best behaviour in front of the family. Don't worry about tomorrow. Can we eat now, please? I'm starved."

*

In spite of Ginny's apparent nonchalance about seeing her family, the following day, as they were ready to leave, Harry could detect a certain amount of nervousness radiating off her. When he took her hand as they went out to where they could Disapparate safely, he could feel the clamminess of her palm. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze just before they both disappeared, only to reappear seconds later in front of the Burrow. There was no one else in sight as they approached the house, which was as lopsided as ever. Before Ginny could open the front door, Harry reached for her, pulling her into an embrace. "It'll be all right," he said. Then he placed a hand under her chin and held her steady so he could kiss her.

The sound of someone clearing his throat caused Harry and Ginny to break apart. They both turned toward the sound to see Ron and Hermione standing in the yard. They had obviously just Apparated in themselves, and they were both looking at Harry and Ginny with avid curiosity.

Hermione looked tanned and happy. The honeymoon in Aruba had definitely agreed with her. Ron seemed to have more freckles than ever. His fair complexion would have necessitated the use of a good Sun Blocking Charm to prevent him from burning. His facial expression was now markedly different from Hermione's, however. The curiosity was giving way to a stony look that Harry couldn't quite understand.

Ginny went over to her brother and sister-in-law and hugged them both, welcoming them back. Then she pulled Hermione aside. She seemingly had something private to discuss with her.

Harry gave Hermione a quick nod and smile, as he approached Ron, holding out his hand, but Ron did not take it. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and said, "What's going on between you and my sister?" in a less than pleased tone.

Harry paused. He couldn't understand his friend's reaction. There was something funny going on here. "We've, well, got together since your wedding. Do you have a problem with that?"

"You might say that," Ron replied. His expression was still set, but he couldn't suppress the gleam in his eyes. Harry now had a good idea what was going on.

"What are you planning on doing about it?" Harry asked, drawing his wand.

Ron pulled out his own wand, and answered, "I'd be careful, if I were you. I've learned a trick or two…"

"Go ahead. Make my day," said Harry, attempting to imitate an American accent in a gravely voice. 

Ron was unable to keep up the act. He burst out laughing. "Are you ever going to give up on those old Muggle movies?" he asked, as he finally shook Harry's hand and clapped him on the back. On numerous occasions, Ron had been subjected to Harry's video collection when he'd visited Harry's London flat.

Harry grinned. "No. I quite like them. I take it you've been to see the twins?"

"Yeah, got an owl from them last night. Didn't appreciate having to go over there, since we'd just returned home, but they've filled me in."

"Anything new you can tell me?"

"No, nothing."

At that moment, the front door opened and Molly Weasley came out. "Ron!" she cried. "What are you doing standing outside? Come into the house…" She walked up to her son and embraced him. Then she turned to Harry, and said, "Hello, Harry, dear." Her tone of voice was warm—it was the one he remembered from his years at Hogwarts--but there was something forced about her smile. Harry could see that Ginny had been right about one thing. Molly was going to be on her best behaviour… even if it killed her. She looked about her. "There you are, Hermione, dear," she continued, "and Ginny. Come into the house, all of you."

Hermione and Ginny had been talking together some distance away. Hermione came over to greet her mother-in-law, and they headed into the house, followed by Ron. Harry hung back, waiting for Ginny, who was walking towards him more slowly. When she'd reached him, he took her hand and squeezed it. "What was that all about?" he asked, as they, too, went into the Burrow.

"Girl talk," Ginny answered enigmatically. "I'll tell you later."

The went into the house, where almost the entire Weasley family had gathered. The only missing member was Bill, who was back in Egypt, and couldn't be counted on to make the long trip back to England very often. Looking around, Harry noted he was the only person there who was not technically a family member. Hermione was now a Weasley by marriage, and Ron's older brothers were all still single. Even Charlie, who, Harry thought, had been dating a Hogwarts professor for the past several years, had come alone. Harry had to wonder why Ginny insisted he come along. Was she trying to make some sort of statement by bringing him? The idea suddenly made him a bit uncomfortable.

Everyone took seats in the living room and made conversation. Ron and Hermione told what they could of their honeymoon (which made for a short story indeed). At least, the twins had a new target for their suggestive comments, Harry thought with relief. He'd been worried they'd subject him and Ginny to that sort of thing, but, for once, they were being discreet. Molly was being painfully polite to him, almost as if he were a stranger. Harry found himself becoming impatient with her attitude. He was determined to have a private talk with her, if he could manage it.

But finding an opportunity to talk to Molly privately was not an easy thing in such a large family. When she went to the kitchen to see to the last minute meal preparations, both Ginny and Hermione volunteered to help her get supper on the table. After supper there was the washing up, but, to everyone's general surprise, the twins offered to do that duty. Harry was stuck in a conversation with Percy on the latest developments in international broom standards, and had no chance to catch Molly's eye.

At last, the family went outside to enjoy a fireworks display put on by the twins. Harry noticed Mrs. Weasley head back into the house after a few minutes and decided to follow her. He found her in the kitchen, her back turned towards him, making a large pot of hot chocolate.

He cleared his throat, causing her to jump. Turning around, she said, "Oh, Harry, I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sorry to startle you, Mrs. Weasley. I think we need to have a talk, you and I."

Mrs. Weasley looked suddenly uncomfortable. "What about?"

Harry felt just as uncomfortable as Mrs. Weasley looked, but he felt this needed to be done, so he forged ahead. "You've made no secret of the fact you've got a problem with me, but I'd like to hear just what that problem is. As far as I know, I've never done any sort of harm to you or your family, and I find myself at a loss to explain it."

Whatever Molly had been expecting Harry to say to her, this obviously wasn't it. She went over to the table and sat down. Harry took a seat, as well. She took a breath and began, "You can hardly expect me to approve your living arrangements at the moment…"

Harry interrupted her. "Hasn't Mr. Weasley explained the reasons behind that by now?" 

"Well, yes, but…" Harry could see her twisting her hands in her apron.

"Then you understand that I'm staying at Ginny's for safety reasons above anything else."

"Are you saying that that's the _only_ reason you're there?"

Harry felt his face grow hot. There was no point in lying to her though. "No," he said quietly, "not any more. The truth of the matter is, things began that way, but they've progressed beyond that…"

"You seduced her, then." It was an accusation. Mrs. Weasley was looking at him directly now, her eyes glittering dangerously. This was not getting any easier.

"It's not like that. I love Ginny. I have for a long time."

Molly gasped. "And you expect me to believe that, after everything I've read about you?" She sounded deeply offended. "Nothing I've heard about you tells me you're out for anything more than a fling."

Harry sighed, but he was determined to hold onto his temper, no matter what Molly said. An argument now would accomplish nothing. "Mrs. Weasley, I'll be as forthright as I can. Not everything they print in _Witch Weekly_ is true. I don't know what I can say to make you believe that, but what I'm telling you now is the truth. You've known me now for over ten years. I thought you knew me better than to believe those stories. You're an individual. You can work out for yourself what the truth is."

"I'm an individual," Molly repeated absently. Then she seemed to come out of a reverie. "I used to know you, Harry. You were like a member of the family. But then you went away, and when you came back, you'd changed…"

"How had I changed?"

"You were famous…"

"I was famous before," he replied as evenly as he could. This was frustrating. Harry could easily understand why Ginny got into so many rows with this woman.

"And then you made yourself even more famous by playing Quidditch."

"I took the job playing Quidditch, because it was something I was good at. And something I enjoyed. I thought I deserved to at least do something I enjoyed, rather than something I had to do out of duty for once. I never asked for fame once in my life. I've always had it thrust upon me. Believe me, if I could live anonymously, I'd do it gladly. You should _know_ me better than that." They were getting nowhere. They were just arguing in circles.

"Maybe if you hadn't distanced yourself from us, I would know you better." More than anything, her tone was hurt now. "If you hadn't gone away…" She put her hands over her mouth, as if she were about to blurt out a long-held secret.

"If I hadn't gone away?" he prompted. Perhaps he'd get some answers, after all. Harry watched as conflicting emotions played over Molly's features. It looked to him as if she were struggling with something she'd kept pent-up for a long time.

"Why, Harry?" she asked shakily. "Why did you go away? You were practically a member of the family. We would have helped you. But for two years we didn't know whether you were dead or alive. You never sent any word. You could have at least let us know you were all right." She stopped and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief from her apron pocket.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "There's not much I can say to excuse myself for that, and I won't even try. But I'll at least try to explain." He paused here, and ran a hand through his hair, as he chose his words. "It seemed the best thing to do at the time," he began. "Everyone was happy. Everyone was celebrating, but I felt I couldn't join it. I felt separate from it all. I'd lost my godfather, Dumbledore, Hagrid, so many others who had been like family to me… People who had introduced me to the wizarding world. I thought it would be best if I withdrew from it. I went to live as a Muggle for those two years…" Molly was listening to him with rapt attention. No one beyond Ron and Hermione had ever heard about where he'd gone, and he'd only told them at their insistence on his return. "Even now, I have a flat in Muggle London. It's a good place to escape. No one knows who I am in the Muggle world." 

Molly was dabbing at her eyes again. "What made you decide to come back?" she asked at last.

"I don't honestly know. I just felt it was time. I thought I was healed by then, but I wasn't, really. I won't deny I made mistakes. _Witch Weekly_ did get some of it right in the beginning," he added bitterly. "But once I realised that what I was doing was essentially empty, I stopped. But by then I had a reputation that was difficult to shake off…"

Molly opened her mouth to reply, but before she could get anything out, the kitchen door opened and Arthur walked in. He looked from his wife to Harry questioningly, but there was no time for further explanation. The rest of the family came in behind him. The fireworks were over, and it was time to go home.

Before they left, however, Ron took Harry aside. "We haven't had much chance to talk about what's been happening. Come into the joke shop with Ginny tomorrow. We can talk then." Harry agreed to this, and Ron added with a suppressed grin, "Try not to be late for once, all right?"

As Harry and Ginny said their good nights, Harry's eyes met Molly's, and he thought he saw a beginning of understanding there. His heart felt much lighter, now. 

__


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Revelations

Chapter 13: Revelations

Harry and Ginny Apparated into the alley behind Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on Monday morning, but to Harry's surprise Ginny did not go straight in to work. Instead she walked around the building and into Diagon Alley itself. Harry followed her as she headed in the general direction of the Leaky Cauldron. At this early hour most of the shops were still closed, and there were very few witches and wizards about. 

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, as he fell into step beside Ginny.

"I need to go to the apothecary before work. I won't have time later."

"It's not open yet, is it?"

"Hermione's expecting me. She'll let us in."

Hermione had only recently begun working at the apothecary. Even before leaving Hogwarts, she'd made the decision to attend Muggle university and had begun preparing to take her A-levels over her summer holidays. Once she'd left school, she could devote herself full-time to her studies and had been able to apply to Oxford with top marks only a year after finishing at Hogwarts. She now held a degree in biochemistry, which she combined with her exceptional ability at Potions. She was thus capable of brewing the most complicated concoctions, and her skills were much in demand.

Ginny knocked on the apothecary shop window, and Hermione came to let them in. She looked as if she'd been at work for a while already. Her apron was as spotless as ever, but the smell of cooked cabbage pervaded the shop, and her face was flushed from standing over a bubbling cauldron. She led Ginny to the back of the shop and handed her a stoppered flask of greenish brown liquid.

"There you are. I can't do anything about the taste, because adding anything else would weaken its effectiveness. You'll just have to hold your nose…" Hermione pulled a face which spoke volumes for the mysterious potion's flavour.

"At least I don't need to take it every day. How much do I owe you?"

Hermione looked apologetic. "Five Galleons."

Ginny winced but counted out the coins and handed them over.

"That was expensive," Harry commented, as they headed back towards the joke shop. "What was that stuff?"

He saw Ginny blush out of the corner of his eye. "Well," she hesitated. "It's just that potions are more effective for some things than charms…" Harry wasn't sure what this had to do with anything. His puzzlement must have shown on his face, for Ginny continued. "It's the reason there are so many of us in my family, you know. My parents were both rubbish at potions, to hear my mum tell it, and they never had enough money to be able to afford this." She indicated the bag into which she had put her flask of potion. "So they were forced to rely on charms, and the charms just aren't as reliable…"

Now Harry had a good idea what she was hinting at. "But there's no chance you could be…" He had a sudden vision of Ginny nursing a black-haired baby. The thought was disconcerting, frightening even, but there was something about it that tugged at his heart at the same time. Perhaps someday… 

"Not likely. The way Hermione explained it, the charms become less reliable over time. Your body becomes immune to them, and then nature takes over. With the potion there's no chance of that happening."

They had reached Weasley's Wizard Wheezes once more. Entering through the back door, Harry found Ron already there waiting for him. He followed Ron into the twins' office.

Taking a seat, Harry began without preamble. "So, is there anything new you can tell me?"

"Unfortunately, no, as I said yesterday. All avenues we've investigated have turned up nothing. I'll tell you it's no fun coming home from two weeks' holiday and having to catch up on a huge file. But I've caught up now."

"So you couldn't discover who'd put Ginny's boss under the Imperius Curse?"

"No. Whoever is doing this seems to be watching us closely. They know we're on the lookout for them, and they're lying low. There's been no new tampering with any of the Ministry's Dark Detectors, and no new Dark activity reported. Nothing. It's almost as if they've disappeared."

Harry considered. Whoever had been threatening Ginny also seemed to have backed off for the moment. He said as much to Ron. "I don't like it. They're still out there, whoever they are, but they're well hidden. We can't do anything but wait for them to make a move." He decided not to tell Ron about his plans to question Malfoy's ghost. He was sure Ron would tell him not to involve himself, to let the Ministry handle things, just as George had. It seemed to be the party line, but Harry wanted answers, and he was certain he would not get any if the Ministry took over. He wasn't even convinced that Ron was telling him the truth now about his department having no new leads, but he decided to let that slide for the moment. Harry would let Ron keep his secrets, since he had one of his own.

"That brings us to the reason I asked you to come in this morning," said Ron, as he fumbled for something in his pocket. He pulled out a small, square object that Harry instantly recognised.

"That looks like a pager," he said, wondering what Ron was doing with Muggle gadgets in his pocket.

"It is a pager of sorts. You know, we always used to think Dad was a bit mental about Muggle artefacts, but it turns out they can come in handy, once they've been fiddled with. He brought one of these home last year and took it apart to see how it worked. When he showed me his latest toy, I wondered if the department couldn't make use of it. You see, instead of someone using this to get in touch with you, this works in the opposite way. You can use it to get in touch with Fred, George, or me. So if ever you need help, just press that." Ron indicated a red button on the pager. "It will send a signal to all of us at once, and we can follow the signal to Apparate to wherever you happen to be."

"That's useful," said Harry, as he took the pager and examined it. "How do you get the signal?"

"I have one of my own that receives the signal. We all have them in the department now. This is the first time we're handing them out to private citizens, though. First time we've needed to. Needless to say, this is secret information. Not something to broadcast about."

"Right, I get the idea, Q." Harry had to laugh at the blank stare Ron gave him. "Remind me to make you watch some James Bond movies sometime."

"Erm, yeah, sure. Getting back to business, I'll be giving one to Ginny too."

"Ron, why didn't Fred or George give us these pager things back when all this started?"

Ron hesitated almost imperceptibly before replying. "They're sort of my invention. Under my control. They had to wait till I authorised it." Harry knew that Ron wasn't telling him the whole story, and his disbelief must have been evident, for Ron continued. "They have had the two of you under surveillance, you know. If any situation had come up that required intervention, you would have had assistance almost as quickly as with the pagers."

The room suddenly seemed very warm to Harry, and he fiddled with his collar. He couldn't stop himself from wondering just how close the twins' surveillance was, but he decided he didn't want to bring up this subject even with Ron. Instead, he pursued another thread of the conversation. "So then why do we need them now?"

"As a precaution," answered Ron with enough finality in his tone that Harry knew all argument would be useless. "I'm sorry I can't tell you any more at this time." 

There it was, then. Ron had lapsed fully into official department-speak. Harry knew he'd be getting nothing further out of him. Not that it mattered much. Harry was now determined to locate Malfoy and find out what he knew. Harry thought of the cave outside Hogsmeade where he'd met with Sirius during his fourth year. That would be a convenient, secluded spot. With this in mind, he took his leave of Ron and went into the front of the joke shop to say goodbye to Ginny before heading back to Hogsmeade.

He found her hunched down in front of some shelves to the side of the shop, her back turned towards him. She had a roll of parchment in one hand and a quill in the other, which she was using to point at the items on the shelf as she counted them. Harry reached out a hand and touched her shoulder.

Ginny started. "Mwhssi?" Then she turned and saw Harry standing behind her. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were there."

"I just wanted to tell you I'm off home now."

She stood up and faced him. "What did Ron want?"

"He had something for me. He'll tell you soon enough. I'll let you get back to work now." A rapid glance around the shop told him there were no customers in sight. It was still early. His hand cupped her cheek, as he leaned down and kissed her. "See you tonight, love." 

Her brown eyes flashed at him, and he felt an electric sort of tingle pass through him. It made him wish that he could take her back home with him now. He wanted to lean in for another kiss, but a customer came in then, and he reluctantly let Ginny go. The depth of his need for her was, even now, a revelation to him. He had never felt this way about anybody else, had never known such emotions even existed, and he was still stunned by it. 

He went out into Diagon Alley and Disapparated. He reappeared at Ginny's cottage and went inside just long enough to collect the parchment which held the information he had copied from the books at Hogwarts library. Then he began to walk along the lane that led out into the country. He clambered over the stile, remembering the time he, along with Ron and Hermione, had met a black dog at this very spot. It seemed so long ago now, even though he knew less than ten years had passed since that day. As he continued along the boulder-strewn path that led up the side of the mountain, he thought of his godfather, and how he had died in a confrontation with Death Eaters during Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. Sirius had never been able to catch Wormtail, but his name had been cleared posthumously. It had been too little too late, as far as Harry was concerned.

When he reached the fissure in the rock that was the entrance to the cave, Harry was sweating from the steep climb in the hot sun. He eased himself though the crack—it was a much tighter squeeze than he'd remembered—into the welcome coolness inside. He paused and wiped his forehead on his sleeve, before lighting his wand and consulting his notes to familiarise himself with the spells he might need. When he felt he was ready, he put away the parchment, raised his wand and cried, "_Hic spiritus_ Draco Malfoy!"

The words echoed in the cave and died away, as he waited. He waited so long that he was sure the spell hadn't worked. It was only the first time he'd attempted it, after all, and he still found the incantation funny. It might have affected his concentration. He remembered the trouble he'd had learning the Summoning Charm in his fourth year. He was about to raise his wand and try again, when the temperature seemed to drop another five degrees. It was no longer comfortably cool in the cave, it was downright chilly. There was an icy blast of air, and then…

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy had turned up at last, and he sounded perturbed.

Harry decided to dispense with the niceties. "Took you long enough." 

"I've got all the time in the world, Potter. I'm never in a hurry for much of anything these days."

"I need you to tell me some things. Last week you hinted to me that you could tell me something useful. I'd like to hear it now."

Malfoy's ghostly form glowed faintly in sharp contrast with the darkness in the cave. Harry saw him smile smugly and cross his arms over his chest. "Last week you were in too much of a hurry to bother. Why's it so important you hear what I've got to say now?"

"Maybe I didn't believe you could tell me anything important at the time. I've changed my mind now. Let's hear it."

"What if I don't want to talk now? What are you going to do about it?"

"For starters, I can keep summoning you back until you decide to talk…" Malfoy couldn't possibly have gone any paler than he already was, but Harry could see his eyes widen. It seemed obvious that the summoning hadn't been a pleasant experience for him. "And I've discovered a spell or two that can keep you here," Harry continued. "I've got all day."

Malfoy laughed coldly. "You may have all day, but I've got eternity."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, belying his growing irritation, and drew his wand. "_Subigo te respondere."_ Malfoy visibly stiffened, and his face registered surprise. Harry smiled grimly. "Didn't expect that, did you?"

Draco was now compelled to answer. "No," he said shortly.

"Now, tell me what you were going to tell me last week."

"I don't remember what I was going to tell you." Malfoy may have been magically compelled to answer, but he wasn't obliged to tell the truth.

"Then allow me to refresh your memory. We were discussing your father, I believe. What can you tell me about him?"

"Lots of things that would curl your toes, but most of it has nothing to do with you," Malfoy sneered.

Harry was rather surprised to hear that any of this might have something to do with him. "Then stick to the part that does have to do with me."

Malfoy smirked. "I'd keep on my toes, if I were you," he said cryptically. "Practise my duelling, even."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" It was becoming a struggle for Harry not to show his annoyance. He had a feeling that this was the sort of reaction Malfoy was trying to provoke, and Harry didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Very little had changed between them in that respect.

"Just what I said." 

Harry wished he'd discovered a spell that would make Malfoy answer plainly. It was a shame that Veritaserum could not be used on ghosts, he reflected. Not that he knew where he could procure any. Doubtless Hermione knew how to make it, but he couldn't have asked her for any without the information getting back to Ron. The use of Veritaserum was still highly regulated by the Ministry of Magic.

Harry sighed. "Look, would you just tell me what your father's been up to, and what that has to do with me?"

"Oh, he has plans for you, Potter, and for your girlfriend."

"What sort of plans, and what do they have to do with Ginny?"

"I can't tell you exactly," Malfoy drawled, clearly relishing that fact.

"You can't or you won't?"

"Can't. I don't know details." There was something in his tone that made Harry inclined to believe him.

"Then would you tell me what you do know? From our last conversation, I gather you don't exactly bear any sort of good will towards your father. Why not tell me what you know? If you can have him sent to Azkaban, wouldn't it be worth helping me out?"

Malfoy considered this option for such a long time that Harry began to feel impatient. Draco seemed to be torn between wanting to take revenge on his father in any way he could, and his natural inclination to hinder anything Harry wanted. "I don't know as much as you'd like," he answered at last. "I can tell you this. Lucius," he spat the name, "has spent a most of his time in the years since the Dark Lord's defeat studying the Dark Arts. At the end of the war, he went into hiding in Russia, but before he left England, he was able to retrieve a great many personal papers left behind by the Dark Lord himself. He spent a great deal of time reading through them, and then he went to Durmstrang on several occasions and made use of their library. I know, because I was haunting him the entire time." He sounded pleased with himself. Harry was reminded of something Moaning Myrtle had once told him. She'd described how she'd haunted a former classmate of hers until that classmate complained to the Ministry, which then forced Myrtle to remain at Hogwarts. Lucius hadn't had that sort of recourse, since he'd been a fugitive from the Ministry, himself.

I couldn't follow him to Durmstrang, though," Malfoy continued. "They have some sort of safe-guards in place that even ghosts can't penetrate. He was also careful about what he said or leaving papers lying around, if he knew I was there. He must have learned a thing or two about taking precautions against ghosts while at Durmstrang, because I never was able to get a good look at what, exactly, he was trying to learn how to do."

"You must have an idea."

Malfoy shrugged. "The Dark Lord spent a great deal of energy trying to become immortal. I assume Lucius is trying to do the same." The animosity in Malfoy's voice when he said his father's name gave Harry a strange prickly feeling along his spine. He wasn't surprised, however, at the depth of Malfoy's obvious disdain. Lucius had, after all, killed his own son.

"And what does all this have to do with me?"

"The old bastard isn't in Russia anymore. He's in England. And I've heard your name come up."

"My name?" Harry said, more to himself, than to Malfoy. "But Ginny's the one who's been receiving all the threats."

"She's been mentioned as well."

"But why?"

"I haven't heard anything specific. Lucius has been too careful."

"So how did you know where to find me?"

"You summoned me, remember?" He was beginning to be intentionally obtuse once more.

"Last week, I mean. When I ran into you at Hogwarts."

"That was coincidence, more or less. I came up to Hogwarts on my own, but I saw you outside the castle on your way in. You had a book under your arm, so I assumed you were going to the library. I decided to waylay you. It was fun. You were distracted and almost walked through me. I managed to piss you off, too." He sounded quite pleased with himself.

"So if you weren't expecting to find me, what were you doing up there?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I was in the neighbourhood," he answered in a bored drawl.

Something clicked in Harry's mind. If Malfoy had been in the area that day, and he'd been haunting his father all this time, then it might mean that Lucius, himself, was in the vicinity. "Where's your father staying these days?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Malfoy smiled bitterly. "It's not at Malfoy Manor, I can tell you that much. I can't tell you exactly where, either. It's difficult for me to judge distances in my present form. Travel isn't the same for a ghost as it is for the living."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of this remark. He wanted to think that since it had taken a while for Malfoy to appear once he'd been summoned, he must have travelled a fairly great distance. But Harry felt he couldn't be certain of this. Perhaps Malfoy had resisted the summons for as long as he could, just to annoy Harry. There was no way of knowing, and Harry didn't like the feeling. 

As Harry hesitated, considering, Malfoy began to float about restlessly. He seemed to be growing increasingly bored. "Listen," he said at last. "If the interrogation is over, I'd like to be off now."

Harry still had about a hundred questions he'd like to ask, but he was becoming more and more certain Malfoy wouldn't be able to answer. "You can go in a minute, Malfoy. But just remember, I can always summon you back." He saw Malfoy flinch at this. Presumably, it hadn't been a pleasant experience to be summoned. "If you want to avoid that in the future, I'm staying in Hogsmeade. A little cottage on the outskirts, lots of flower beds. You can look me up there if you turn up anything."

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Looks to me as if you don't like to be summoned, for one thing. For another, you get revenge on your father if he gets sent away. It's up to you though." Harry shrugged, as if the matter was much less important than it was.

Malfoy didn't answer one way or the other. He simply floated through the wall of the cave, leaving Harry alone in the dark once more. He remained there a while longer, trying to make sense of it all. Lucius Malfoy was still delving deeply into the Dark Arts and was, it seemed to him, behind the threats Ginny had received. And he, Harry, was somehow involved, in spite of never having been the recipient of a threat, himself. But why? What did the one have to do with the other? If he, himself, was implicated, it had to go beyond the fact that Ginny may have found out about some minor dark activity when she still worked at the Ministry. 

Unless… Unless Ginny had somehow uncovered some plot that was directed against him the entire time. Could that be it? If this were the case, then his staying at her house was possibly putting her in danger, rather than protecting her. If he were the ultimate target, then he needed to stay as far away from her as he could.

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A/N: I've just realised it's been a month since I updated this. Time has flown by on me… I was lacking in inspiration, and I had a trip to New York to plan and take. I'm hoping the next part will be up much sooner. Thanks to my beta readers, especially my editor, who gave me the idea for how to end this chapter. If you don't like cliff hangers, blame him! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Out of the Frying Pan....

Chapter Fourteen: Out Of the Frying Pan…

When Ginny returned home from work that evening, she immediately had the feeling something was wrong. Going into her cottage, she couldn't put her finger on just what was amiss for a moment, and then it struck her. Harry's things were gone.

In spite of the evidence before her, she called out, "Harry!" She was answered by silence. Then she spied a piece of parchment on an end table. Lifting the vase which had served as a paperweight, she saw her name had been written on the parchment in Harry's handwriting. A feeling of foreboding came over her as she unfolded the note and read:

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Ginny—I've moved back to my flat. Will explain soon. Love, Harry

Ginny tossed the note aside in disgust, as she bit back a scream of frustration. An instant later she picked it up again, hoping at least to find some clue as to why he'd left. But there was nothing; the note was as terse as ever. 

She began to shred the parchment methodically, as she tried to think of new and inventive ways to make him suffer. But then a new, sickening thought struck her, and she found herself engulfed in a wave of self-doubt. Maybe this was Harry's way of breaking things off. The thought made her angrier than ever. If this was the case, he was the biggest bloody coward she'd ever known.

Some small voice of reason in the back of her mind told her this couldn't be true. There was nothing cowardly about him. There remained, however, a niggling doubt that stood in opposition to the voice of reason. She thought back to how he'd claimed to have loved her since his sixth year. That was the part she'd had the most trouble crediting. If it had been true, why hadn't he acted on it sooner? Why had he been with all sorts of women who had supposedly meant nothing to him? She cursed _Witch Weekly_ for having aired all his dirty laundry in public. If not for that, she might have been able to live in blissful ignorance. But she couldn't. And her mother was going to have a field day with this… just when a tentative truce had been reached.

She forced herself to calm down enough to think things through. A rapid search of the bedroom and bathroom told her he'd packed everything, down to Hedwig's cage and his weights. He truly had moved out. The note said he'd explain soon, but Ginny decided that wasn't good enough. He was bloody well going to explain now. She was going to see him at his flat and make sure of it. And if she didn't like the explanation… well, she'd make sure Harry would be very sorry indeed. 

Looking down at her robes, Ginny realised she'd have to change into Muggle clothes before going over there. It wouldn't do to attract attention when his whole reason for living there was to fade into the crowd.

Once she'd put on something more appropriate, she paused. She was sure she remembered enough to be able to Apparate to the flat, but she wondered if there wouldn't be a ward over the place. It was likely, she decided. She remembered leaving from the back alley when they'd been there almost two weeks ago. That would be the best spot to appear. It was summer and still light out; she didn't want to alarm any Muggles by appearing in the middle of Harry's street.

Ginny went outside and visualised the alley behind his flat. In the next instant, she was there. She quickly made her way around to the front of the building. She went into the lobby and was faced with a locked door, next to which was a row of numbered buttons. Some of the buttons had names underneath them but not all, and Harry's name did not appear anywhere. Ginny cast about in her mind but could not remember Harry's flat number. "I can unlock this door, at any rate," she said to herself. A quick glance told her there was no one about. She drew her wand and muttered, "alohomora." The door opened, and she made her way up to the third floor—she remembered that much. Now she had only to hope that Harry was actually at home.

She knocked at his door, wondering what sort of reception she was going to get. None of the scenarios she could imagine was very pleasant. The expression on Harry's face when he answered the door only confirmed these thoughts. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed, as he grabbed her hand and dragged her inside, closing the door behind them. "Did anyone see you?"

Ginny's anger returned in a flash. "No, of course not." She fought to keep her voice down, but her words remained clipped. "Not unless you count a few Muggles in the street. Did you expect me not to come over here after that note you left me? Just what the hell was that?"

Harry sighed. "Come on," he said, motioning her into the living room. "Sit down. I said I'd explain, and I will." 

Ginny didn't want to sit down; she wanted to have a row. That was the way things were usually done in her family. It didn't seem that Harry would co-operate with this plan though. She sat down and crossed her arms, glaring at him. "This had better be good," she said testily.

Harry sat beside her and proceeded to tell her about his encounter with Malfoy's ghost and the conclusions he'd drawn. Ginny pursed her lips as she listened, hating the fact that what he was saying seemed to make sense.

"How do you work out from all that, that you're putting me in danger?" Ginny asked him, when he'd finished. She was determined to find some weakness in his reasoning. "You haven't received a single threat or warning."

"Not unless you count the _Witch Weekly_ photo. We were both in that."

"Even that had more of a bearing on me. It was to show me my house was being watched."

"I don't know, Gin. Malfoy said his father had plans for me. He mentioned you as well, but I think it's only because you stumbled onto something you shouldn't have. The way things have worked out, you've been suspended from your job, so you can't be in their way anymore. They ought to leave you alone now. In fact, they have been. But if I'm the one they really want, then I'm only bringing you back to their attention by being involved with you. That's why I had to move back here. I think we need to give everyone the impression we've broken up, to keep you out of harm's way."

Ginny swallowed hard. She had to ask. "Is this your way of telling me you want to break up?"

Harry looked stricken. "How can you ask me that?"

"That note sounded pretty final to me."

"I said we needed to give the impression we'd broken up, not that I actually wanted to do it. Why would you think that?"

"You do have this reputation. Even if it's not entirely earned, you've admitted to me that some of it's true."

"Doesn't it mean anything to you that I haven't lied to you about that? I could have. Easily." This was said in a particularly hard tone. Harry stopped, swallowed, and began again. "Have you ever done anything you regretted?" 

Ginny immediately thought of taking the job with the Improper Use of Magic Department. Not that she regretted taking it, only that she'd had to out of necessity. She could also think of a thing or two she'd said to her mother whilst arguing. She nodded slowly.

"I've done plenty of things I've regretted, Ginny. If I could take them back, I would. You know, when I came back, I thought I was ready, but I wasn't, not really. And then I discovered what I thought was a form of oblivion, but it never lasted. It was only temporary. I made mistakes, Ginny. I'm human. But that's in the past now. As much as I'd like to, I can't change it."

Ginny could only stare at the stark expression on his face. When he looked at her like that, she couldn't help but believe him. She could read the truth in his eyes. She reached out and placed a hand against his cheek, her heart beating a bit faster as he leaned into her touch. He brought up his own hand and took hers, entwining their fingers. Ginny stared at their joined hands, as Harry continued.

"Do you know how difficult it was for me to leave today?" She shook her head mutely. "It was much, much worse than the first time."

Now she was confused. "The first time?"

"This is the second time now I've had to set my feelings for you aside in order to keep you safe. But this time it's so much harder for me. In my sixth year I was giving up a possibility. This time I'm giving up something I know to be real."

Ginny met his gaze then and held it. "Then don't give it up this time. Stop being so bloody noble and self-sacrificing for once."

"If anything were to happen to you, I'd never forgive myself."

"Nothing's going to happen, Harry. I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for years now. At any rate, we're both in this together. I have a say in what happens just as much as you do, and I'm not letting you leave. I forbid it."

His face began to twist into a smile. "You forbid it? Just how are you planning on stopping me?"

The atmosphere in Harry's flat seemed to take on an electric quality. Ginny felt his hand tighten around hers. "I can be very persuasive when I set my mind to it," she said in a low voice that surprised even her. "And then if you still insist on moving out, I may just have to follow you." Ginny paused and looked around her. "No one knows where you live, do they?"

"Besides you, Ron and Hermione, no. I've never let anyone else see this. Really, it isn't much. Just a place to sleep."

"Yes, but if no one knows, isn't this the perfect place to hide?"

"It's the perfect place for me to hide, Gin. That's what I've always done here. But it wouldn't look right if, all of a sudden, you disappeared from your place in Hogsmeade." 

"Why not?" She had a good idea why not, but she was frustrated now. What he was saying made too much sense, and she didn't like it.

"Because that house is being watched. They'll suspect something's up if you disappear, and they may decide to come looking. I'm sure they know you're working at the joke shop. It would make you more of a target than ever. They could use you to flush me out. Or they could try to follow you until they found me. If they think we're no longer together, they can't use you to get to me." He hesitated for a moment, and Ginny saw doubt cloud his eyes. "Ginny, I may have to allow myself to be photographed with another witch. Will you trust me that anything showing up in _Witch Weekly_ will be meaningless to me?"

Ginny swallowed. Now they were to the point. Looking into his face, she knew in her heart he'd never been anything but honest with her; he'd even been forthright about things he could have kept from her. He'd never given her any reason not to trust him. She took a deep breath and said, "yes, Harry, I trust you." 

She felt his arms encircle her waist and draw her close. "When this is over," he whispered against her hair, "I'll come back." He pulled away slightly to look into her eyes. "If that's what you want."

Ginny could only nod; she didn't trust her voice at the moment, knowing she was acquiescing to the entire plan. Harry was kissing her in the next instant, in any case. Her thoughts were beginning to scatter when…

An insistent electronic noise caused them to break apart. "What is that?" Ginny asked.

Harry reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out the pager Ron had given him. "It's this," he answered, a questioning look on his face. "Did Ron give you one of these?" When she nodded, he continued, "look, it's got a message on it. Did Ron tell you about this? Because he didn't mention it to me…"

Ginny looked at the small screen which carried a message: "Harry, check in."

"Ron told me if I got a message like that to check in with whoever was at the joke shop. But why didn't…" She trailed off as she realised the reason why her pager hadn't gone off. She'd left it in the pocket of her robes when she'd changed before coming over here. She didn't want to mention this oversight to Harry, though. To cover the awkward moment she said, "we'd better answer that. Where's your powder for fire talking?"

"I'm not on the Floo network, so I don't have any."

"We'll just have to pop over then. Quick, before they decide to try to find us."

"Let's go then. We need to go out in any case. I haven't got anything edible. I came home to an extremely rank refrigerator this afternoon." Harry pulled a most expressive look of disgust at this.

They Apparated over to the alley behind Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. They knocked at the back door which Ron, with quite a worried look on his face, opened to let them in.

"What took you so long to answer?" he demanded without preamble. The shop itself was empty except for the three of them. It had been closed for the day before Ginny had even returned to her cottage, and there was no chance of any outside ears overhearing their conversation.

"We had to come over from my flat," Harry answered him. "I'm not on the Floo network, or we could have talked through the fire. What's the trouble, anyway?"

"We lost sight of the two of you. I told you earlier we had Ginny's place under surveillance, and then both of you disappeared. I wasn't quite as concerned about you, Harry, since you've been in and out of there since we've been keeping an eye on things. But then Ginny left as well, and I thought it would be a good idea to make sure everything was all right."

Ginny thought Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable. She assumed his discomfiture was for the same reason she felt her own cheeks heat. She didn't like to think about how closely she was being watched, and by her own brothers at that. But then Harry began to speak. "Look, Ron, about that. I've moved out of Ginny's for now. I'm back at my flat. I think it's for the best that way."  


Ron grinned lopsidedly. "There must be a good reason behind that if you're still alive to tell about it." Ginny felt like kicking her brother, but she restrained herself.

"I've found something out today. Perhaps we should go into the office and sit down."

Without another word, Ron turned and went into the twins' office. Ginny and Harry followed him. When they were all seated, Ron looked expectantly at Harry, who related to him all he could about Malfoy's ghost. Ginny saw Ron's eyes widen in surprise as Harry described his first meeting with Draco. No one, it seemed, had known about Malfoy's continued existence in this world, such as it was, not even the Ministry of Magic. When Harry had finished the entire story, however, Ron did not look pleased.

"Why couldn't you have told me all of this sooner?" he asked in a decidedly irritated tone.

"I didn't know about a good bit of this before today."

"You could have told me you'd seen Malfoy's ghost, at any rate. Hell, you should have told Fred or George about that the day you first ran into him. We could have got a hell of a lot more information out of him than you did."

"I don't know how, he didn't know that much." Ginny thought Harry was attempting to sound reasonable.

"How do you know he wasn't lying to you about how much he knew? Shit, Harry, you're not trained for this sort of thing. You don't know the sort of methods we have at our disposal. Why the hell couldn't you let the professionals handle it?" Ron was quite red in the face now, and he was using a tone Ginny hadn't heard out of him for quite a while. 

"Because I don't think you and your brothers have been entirely above board about this from the beginning. I think you're holding back important information on me." Harry's own voice was adamant.

"We have to follow procedure, Harry. I'm not allowed to divulge certain things."

"Procedure? When did you ever play by the rules?"

Ginny thought it might be wise for her to intervene here before Ron and Harry had a falling out. She didn't really like the way either one of them was looking at the other. "What's done is done, now," she insisted, breaking in on their exchange before either one of them could say another word. "We're not going to get any further with this by arguing about who's been hiding what." She glared at both of them. "Now, Ron, Harry has told you something that could help further your investigation. Do you have anything at all you can tell us in return?"

Ron suddenly looked sheepish. "No, not really. I might have told both of you to keep on your toes, but it seems Malfoy's done it for me. Basically, all we've been able to determine is what Harry's found out from Malfoy, nothing more. But if we can get hold of Malfoy and question him effectively, we may be able to learn more."

"And has Harry done anything to stop you from questioning Malfoy by doing so himself?"

"Well, no," Ron was forced to admit. " But we could have learned all this much sooner."

"Then I suppose you've got your work cut out for you for tomorrow. You wanted us over here to find out if we were all right, and you've had your answer. Is there anything else?"

Ron looked rather dazed. "No."

"Then we'll be off. I don't know about you, Harry, but I'm starved. Shall we go and get some supper?"

Harry didn't say a word, as he rose to follow her out of the joke shop. When they'd returned to the back alley, he asked, "how did you do that?"

"What? Shut Ron up?" Harry nodded. "I've only had about ten years more experience at it than you. You'll catch on eventually. At any rate, someone had to stop the two of you. The way you were headed wasn't exactly constructive, you know."

"I'm sorry, but I still don't think he's telling us everything he could."

"Cut him some slack, Harry. It's the nature of his job. He wouldn't presume to tell you how to play Quidditch, would he?" Harry was forced to admit she was right. "Are you going to take me to supper then? I really am starved."

**

The following afternoon found Ginny leaning idly against the counter of her brothers' shop waiting for closing time. She had no customers to occupy her at the moment, and she'd done everything else that needed doing. She had only to wait for the Muggle-style clock (given to the twins by their father as a present when they'd first opened for business) to reach half past five when she could close the shop and leave. It was odd how the hands of the clock always seemed to slow to almost a halt at this time of day. Not that she had anything to look forward to at home. She'd be returning to an empty cottage, and she knew there was no chance Harry would turn up and surprise her this time.

She'd gone back with him to his flat the previous evening, once they'd found themselves some take-away, and she'd ended up spending the night there. Her face flushed at _those _particular memories. She really hadn't had much sleep, and as a result, she'd woken up late and rather disoriented, not knowing where she was for a moment. She'd barely had time for a quick shower before it was time to report to work. She definitely had not had time to say goodbye properly to Harry this morning.

Ginny shook herself. What was done was done, and there was no use dwelling on it. She could only hope this entire mess would be cleared up soon, and then she and Harry could be together again, openly. 

In spite of herself, she looked at the clock on the wall again, although she knew it couldn't be 5:30 yet. She was right: five minutes to go. She sighed and thought about what she needed in the way of groceries. Making out a list would pass the time nicely while keeping her mind off of more depressing thoughts. Besides, she really didn't have all that much food at home. She took out a scrap of parchment and began to write.

The clock on the wall struck 5:30 at long last, and Ginny closed the shop, said goodbye to George, who was in the office, and went out to the back alley to Disapparate to Hogsmeade. She'd have enough time to pick up the items on her shopping list before heading back to her house. She could take her time in returning, since no one was expecting her…

Ginny carried her groceries home at a sedate pace, rather lost in thought and not paying a great deal of attention to her surroundings. The road home was completely familiar, after all the years she'd lived here. She could very likely have found her way home with her eyes closed, she thought. Perhaps this was the reason she did not have time to react when a figure blocked her path, his wand drawn and pointing towards her. She froze, shocked for a moment, and looked into a familiar face. She'd seen this man before in the joke shop, she thought with a shudder at the unpleasant memory. Fred had introduced him to her. It was Richard Bradley.

In the particle of time it took these thoughts to occur to Ginny, Bradley had pointed his wand over her head and muttered, "_tenebrae_". Ginny had never heard this incantation before. Some sort of black, shadowy substance shot from the end of his wand, enveloping them both. Ginny dropped her bags, intending to reach for her own wand, but she wasn't fast enough. Bradley had been ready for her. There was a loud _bang_, as ropes erupted from the end of his wand and bound themselves around her ankles, wrists, and mouth, cutting her off mid-scream. She fell in a heap at his feet.

Bradley leered evilly down at her, as she struggled uselessly against her bonds. "I wouldn't waste my energy, if I were you, my dear." His tone was unctuous. "Oh, yes," he added, pointing his wand at her. "_Accio!_"

His eyes widened in surprise as nothing happened. Ginny had no idea what he was trying to summon, but she felt a sense of smug satisfaction, in spite of her present fear, that the spell hadn't worked. Bradley frowned and tried again. Still nothing. He shrugged and mumbled something Ginny couldn't quite make out. He seemed to be saying something about her not having… what? She wondered if he could have known about her pager, which she'd left in her robe pocket yesterday. Panic began to set in, as she realised she had no way of contacting help. She had a sinking feeling that the dark shadow which surrounded them was effectively concealing them from any possible onlookers.

Bradley retrieved an old magazine from the pocket of his robes and tapped it with his wand.. He knelt down and seized Ginny's bound wrists, thrusting the object into her hands and forcing her to maintain contact with it. At the same time, he made sure he kept his hand on the magazine. Thirty seconds later, Ginny felt a jerk behind her navel, and they were both hurting out of control through space.

They landed on the ground in front of a dilapidated cabin in the midst of some dark trees. Ginny saw this quickly before she fell forward onto her face, unable to maintain her footing since her ankles were bound. She would have smiled grimly if she could have when she heard Bradley land with a heavy thump beside her. It sounded very much as if he'd landed on his posterior. She raised her head and saw him get up and move toward her. He grabbed her around the waist and heaved her like a flour sack over his shoulder. Ginny felt ill.

Bradley pushed his way into the cabin and deposited her none too gently on the floor. Looking around her, Ginny could see no furnishing other than a table and a couple of roughly hewn wooden chairs. There was no one else present. She looked back at Bradley, who had a distinctively nasty expression on his pale face. She definitely did not like the way his features twisted themselves into a hideous grin.

"Now, maybe I can expect some pay-off for my effort. You've been a lot more trouble than you're worth so far." Ginny couldn't say a word in reply, but she felt her insides twist sickeningly. She wondered how he'd known that he could find her on the road this evening. 

"I've been watching for my chance, you know," he said, almost in answer to her unspoken question. "It's been a bloody nuisance with your brothers keeping such a close watch on you and Potter slavering over you twenty-four hours a day. But he finally left you alone long enough for me to have a chance." He laughed, and the sound made Ginny shiver. "God," Ginny thought, "he's been watching me, too."

He sat down next to her, and she cringed to feel his hand touch her cheek. "If you co-operate, I might not even have to hurt you too much."

Ginny was going to be sick if he touched her again, she just knew it. But Bradley didn't have a chance to try. Suddenly a new voice, a female voice, was heard in the room. "Just what do you think you're doing? You're supposed to deliver her _intact_. That means no pawing!"

Ginny recognised that voice, although she hadn't heard it since her days at Hogwarts. She never in her life thought she'd be relieved to hear it: it was her old school nemesis, Simone Howard.

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A/N: I realise Simone sort of pops up out of the blue here, but if you've read the first chapter of "On Her Own" (which is the prequel to this story) you'll learn a bit more about her. Yes, that was a shameless plug. grin


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Into the Fire

****

Chapter Fifteen: Into the Fire

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A/N : This chapter is dedicated to Monique, who was a great source of inspiration to me at a time when I really needed some. Thank you.

Harry left Leicester Square tube stop and made his way along Charing Cross Road, heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. He'd used Muggle transportation once again, since he was determined to take his time about reaching Diagon Alley. While he was sure what he was about to do was for the best, he was still torn in his mind. He was certain now that Ginny would understand, but it still felt to him like a betrayal. He cursed the circumstances that had forced him into this decision.

He entered Diagon Alley and began to amble down the crowded street, taking his time. Normally, he would have hunched his shoulders and walked quickly, keeping his gaze to the ground to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Today his goal was just the opposite: he wanted to attract attention, female attention, and if he was lucky there would be a _Witch Weekly _photographer handy.

He forced a smile to his face as he crossed glances with several witches in passing. He noted absently the way in which they stared back, but none of them stopped to talk. Harry didn't know whether to be relieved or frustrated at this. He gave himself a mental shake. He would just have to steel himself and do this.

He noticed a sudden flash of red through a shop window and almost unconsciously began to move towards it. His hand was on the door leading into the shop when he realised just exactly where he was: outside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He drew back his hand. This would definitely not do. He forced himself to turn around and walk in the opposite direction, hoping that Ginny hadn't seen him. If he were to talk to her now, he knew he'd lose his resolve.

He really hadn't had much of a chance to talk to her today. When she'd left his flat in such a rush that morning he'd been half asleep, leaving him with a vague recollection of a fleeting kiss and something murmured in his ear. He had no idea now what her words to him had been. By the time he'd fully awakened, she had already gone.

Harry wandered back up the street until he reached Florian Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. The sight of the outdoor tables triggered a memory of coming here with Ginny not so long ago. He sat down at a table, thinking he would indeed be lucky if Mandy Brocklehurst would turn up today. Even though he was not really hungry, he ordered some ice cream and waited…

He took his time once his strawberry ice cream with nuts arrived, eating so slowly the ice cream had melted into an unappetising pink puddle before he was halfway through it. But then a shadow was cast across his table and a feminine voice broke in on his thoughts.

"Harry, dear, what a surprise!"

Harry looked up, groaning inwardly. Of all the witches that could have happened by, this was the last one he wanted to talk to. He schooled his features into what he hoped was a pleasant expression and gestured to the chair beside him.

"Please, have a seat, Mrs. Weasley," he said, hoping that whatever her business in Diagon Alley was, it was pressing.

"Why, thank you," she replied, taking a seat and setting several packages down on the pavement. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Mrs. Weasley was obviously not in any sort of hurry and seemed determined to make small talk. He pushed his unfinished ice cream aside while he asked the older woman if she wanted anything.

"No, thank you, dear. I'm thankful for the chance to get off my feet, though. So tell me, how are things with you?"

Harry was rather stunned at the warm tone apparent in her voice. Not two weeks ago she had been giving him the cold shoulder, and now she was acting as if they were old friends. Part of him was aware that she would never create a scene in public, but another part of him acknowledged the fact that she had initiated this conversation. She could easily have passed him by on the street, and he would never have noticed. He thought she just might be extending an olive branch of sorts. 

"Everything's fine, thanks. And you?" He felt safer sticking to the social niceties. He thought of his reason for being here today and cringed inwardly. How would things look to Mrs. Weasley if she knew he'd moved out of Ginny's house or, worse, if she saw him in _Witch Weekly_ linked to someone else? It looked as if he'd have to abandon that plan for the moment.

"Fine, fine," came the reply. Then Mrs. Weasley fell silent. It seemed to Harry she had something else on her mind but was unsure how to bring it up. Finally she began again. "I'm relieved we had a chance to talk the other day. I think I understand things a bit better now. I owe you an apology for the way I treated you. I am sorry for that."

Harry was relieved at this unexpected statement. It looked as if Mrs. Weasley was making an effort to accept his relationship with Ginny. There was nothing for it but to accept her apology. He couldn't think of any possible way to explain the most recent development to her adequately. At least not in public like this. He would just have to conveniently ignore it.

"I understand, Mrs. Weasley. I'm glad we had that talk, too. What do you say we just start fresh?"

He saw her nod, but then suddenly her expression seemed to change and her brown eyes became overly bright. "Don't hurt my girl, Harry. She's loved you forever." There was an odd catch to her voice as she said this, causing Harry to suspect that she was talking about more than just Ginny. He recalled the conversation they'd had at the Burrow and thought he understood what underlay her words. By going away he had hurt Mrs. Weasley, and now Mrs. Weasley was trying to spare her daughter the same pain.

Harry opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but before he could utter a single word, a new voice interrupted him.

"Hello, Harry. I seem to run into you all the time here."

Harry looked up to see Mandy Brocklehurst standing beside their table. She was dressed as garishly as ever, and Harry felt mildly embarrassed for her. He cast a sidelong glance at Mrs. Weasley and noted the manner in which her lips had pressed themselves into a fine line. Damn. Why did Mandy Brocklehurst have to turn up now?

"Hello, Mandy," he replied in as neutral a tone as possible. "Do you know Mrs. Weasley?" He heard Molly sniff as he said this. "This is Mandy Brocklehurst. She was in Ron's and my year at Hogwarts."

He saw both women look at each other with rather forced smiles. Neither one offered the other a hand. Harry resisted the temptation to slouch down in his seat. Things were definitely not going as planned.

The silence stretched out until it became uncomfortable. "Yes, well," Harry said at last. "I must be off now. Nice seeing you again, Mandy." He stood, and Mrs. Weasley rose as well.

"Yes, I must be off, too," said Mrs. Weasley, glancing at her watch. "Oh bother! I was going to drop by the joke shop to say hello, but it's closed now." Harry could see the hand on her watch was pointing to "Too Late".

He set off in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron along with Mrs. Weasley, who was planning to Floo back to the Burrow with her purchases. They left a distinctly disappointed Mandy Brocklehurst behind them at the ice cream parlour. Before saying good-bye to Mrs. Weasley at the pub's fireplace, Harry promised to come over to the Burrow sometime soon, so they could continue their conversation. They had made up some ground in patching up their differences, but there was still some way to go. Harry knew he needed to do this for Ginny's sake.

Harry took his time once more returning to his flat. He still wasn't particularly hungry, but he stopped off for some food on the way back as a means of killing time. He was not looking forward to spending the evening alone. He had done it often enough in the past, but this time was different. He now knew exactly what had been missing in his life. He'd only had a mere taste of it so far, but it wasn't something he was willing to give up any time soon. He could only comfort himself with the thought that this was only a temporary situation, that he'd have Ginny back by his side eventually. But he also knew he would begrudge every moment they were forced to remain apart.

By the time Harry finally made it back to his flat, the shadows had lengthened into exaggerated forms on the ground. He unlocked the door and went into the sparsely furnished living room, not noticing at first the tapping sound at the window. The noise slowly invaded his mind, and he looked over to see an owl waiting for him. Harry felt a sense of foreboding. He never received owls at his flat, as so few people knew about it. How had this one, which he was fairly sure he'd never seen before, found him? Harry let it in and untied the parchment attached to its leg. The owl flew off again, as he unfolded the letter. Two objects fell out of it, but he ignored them for the moment, as he began to read.

He stared in disbelief at the parchment and read it a second time. It was no use; the words written there had not changed: 

__

Do you know where your girlfriend is? If you want to see her alive again, you'd better find her fast. Activate the Portkey and tell no one else about this. If you don't come fast enough, the next part of her we send might be less pleasant.

Harry looked down to see what had fallen from the parchment. On the floor at his feet were an old-fashioned key and an unmistakable lock of red hair. He picked up the lock of hair and closed his fist around it, as anger and despair warred within him. They'd taken her. He hadn't figured this out quickly enough, and whoever was after him was using her as bait. Or perhaps they'd got her because he'd left her unprotected. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He just didn't know anymore. 

He forced himself to calm down and think things through. As terrified as he was for Ginny's sake, it was pointless to beat himself up over the situation, even though he was beginning to suspect that he could have somehow avoided it. Ginny's brothers were supposed to be watching over her. How had she come to be taken in spite of that? Hadn't she been able to use her pager to summon help? He thought back to the previous evening. Only one pager had gone off, his. Had Ginny been without hers since yesterday? It seemed likely. He took his pager out of his pocket and considered it. Should he risk notifying Ron or the twins? He decided he couldn't afford to take the chance with Ginny's life. He would have to go alone and quickly. If he had the chance, he would send a signal to Ginny's brothers once she was safely away from her captors. He put the pager back into his pocket.

He reached down and picked up the key with distaste. It was cold to the touch, and there was something malevolent in the way it glinted in the rays of the dying sun. As much as he despised Portkeys, he had to do this. He took out his wand and performed the spell which would activate it.

An instant later his feet left the ground, and he was lost in a whirl of colour. He slammed into the ground after a moment, the force of his landing causing him to stagger sideways. Righting himself, he found himself in some sort of clearing in some woods. He quickly saw that his arrival had been anticipated. At least five hooded figures advanced on him, wands at the ready. 

Harry tightened his grip on his wand, which had remained in his hand when the Portkey had transported him here. "It's me you want. Just release Ginny, and I'll come quietly."

One of the hooded figures gave a harsh laugh at this. At the same time, another said almost casually, "expelliarmus", and Harry's wand flew out of his hand. A loud bang was heard as ropes erupted from the wand of a third figure, effectively binding Harry from shoulder to ankle. Then, in the instant before he began to topple over as a result of being bound, he heard a final voice say, "stupefy", and he knew no more.

**

When Harry came to, he found himself still bound and lying on a rough wooden plank floor. It was fully dark, and he had no way of knowing what time of night it was, or even if it was still the same night. It was chilly on the floor, and he shivered. He tried raising his head to take stock of his surroundings, but his gaze stopped almost immediately on a small figure huddled in a heap a few feet away. It was Ginny; he was sure of it. There was a small amount of light coming in through a dirty window high in the wall, and he thought he could see the slightest glimmer of red amidst the monochromatic deep greys of the room. He felt a hot surge of anger at himself that he could be so easily tricked into handing himself over. For it was now obvious to him that whoever had taken them had no intention of letting Ginny go.

He raised his head a bit further to see if there was anyone else in the room. There didn't seem to be at first glance, but it was difficult to tell in the dark. The shadows seemed to have congregated in the corners of the room, creating an even deeper blackness that Harry's gaze could not penetrate. He decided to take his chances with anyone who might be watching, and slowly began to work his way across the floor towards Ginny, slithering like a snake. He stopped every foot or so, listening for the sound of any other movement in the room. There was none.

At length he had crept over beside Ginny. She was as still as stone on the floor. For a panicked moment he thought she might be dead, but then he saw to his relief the slight movement of her chest rising and falling. There was enough light for Harry to see that she was also bound, seemingly even more roughly than he had been. He noted lines around her mouth, showing where silencing ropes had cut into her soft skin. A sizeable chunk of hair seemed to be missing from one side of her head. Fresh anger surged through him at the thought of her being mistreated. He eased himself closer and nudged her. 

"Ginny!" he hissed. "Wake up."

She did not respond. He nudged her a bit harder.

"Come on, Ginny. You've got to wake up."

She stirred this time, encouraging Harry to try again. At last her eyelids fluttered and opened. 

"Harry," she breathed.

He wanted to put his arms around her, but his hands were bound behind him. He had to be content with working himself as close to her as possible. He managed a lingering kiss; then pulling back, he asked, "are you hurt at all?"

She shook her head no. 

"Can you tell me what happened? Do you know how long you've been here?"

"Since earlier today. I think it's still the same day. The got me on my way home from work." Her voice had started out shaky, but it was steadily gaining strength.

"Who? Who got you? And why? What do you know?"

"The bastard who captured me is someone I've seen in the joke shop. He came in my first day there, and Fred introduced me. His name is Richard Bradley." She said the name with a great deal of distaste. Harry thought he heard her mutter some speculation as to whether he didn't go by Dick, rather than Richard. "I recognise one other. She was in my year at Hogwarts. Simone Howard, a Slytherin." She spat this. "There are more, but I don't know them. And I don't know what they want."

"I'm sorry, Gin. I got an owl saying they'd let you go if I turned myself in. And I was stupid enough to believe them." Harry fell silent, and then spoke again. "Where are they now? Do you think anyone is listening?"  


"I don't know." She raised her head and looked around the darkened room. "I don't think anyone is in here now, but they could come back at any time."

"How tightly are your hands bound? Can you move them at all?"

"A little. Why?"

Harry shifted around on the floor so that his hip was level with her hands. "Try and get the pager. It should be in my pocket."

He felt her fumble about for a few minutes until she managed to work her hand into his pocket. "Damn it, it's empty," she said in a frustrated tone. "I think they must know about them. Bradley tried to Summon something when he caught me earlier, but nothing happened. But then, I didn't have my pager on me. I'd forgotten it in my robe pocket when I changed my clothes."

Harry had no chance to reply to this, because footsteps could now be heard approaching outside the room. A moment later the door burst open to admit a rather imposing figure whose face could not be seen in the dark. Several more figures followed in the wake of the first, as it advanced into the room.

"Isn't this cosy?" said a sneering female voice.

"Stupid cow," whispered Ginny, leaving Harry to surmise that this was Simone.

"You won't be cosy for long," Simone continued. "It's time to take you to my lord."

Harry felt himself being pulled roughly to his feet. Beside him, the same was being done to Ginny. Strong hands on either side of him held him still as Simone pointed her wand at him and unbound his legs. Harry attempted to break free of the restraining hands, but his struggles proved fruitless. As strong as he was, the hands that held him were stronger. Then he felt what was undoubtedly a wand tip being thrust into the small of his back, and he was prodded forward. To resist further was futile, and he grimly allowed himself to be led from the room.

They were taken outside and forcibly marched through the trees until they reached a small clearing. The moon was high enough to create a baleful light just strong enough to allow Harry to see other cloaked and hooded figures who were awaiting their arrival. He was pushed up against a tree on the edge of the clearing, and tied to the trunk. He could feel the tree's rough bark biting mercilessly into his hands, which were still behind his back. He looked to his left and saw that Ginny had been made fast to the next tree. He met her gaze before turning his head to face forward once more. All the hooded figures had formed a semi-circle in the clearing, and now one of them broke ranks and came to stand in the middle. The figure lowered its hood, reminding Harry eerily of the Dementor in his third year. The moon glinted off pale hair and cast evil-looking shadows which exaggerated the pointed features of Lucius Malfoy. 

"So glad you could join our little party," Malfoy said with a cruel smile. "You might even say you're the guests of honour. Or at any rate, we couldn't have the party without you."

Harry had been looking at the semi-circle of cloaks, looking for any possible means by which he might recognise Malfoy's followers, but Malfoy's words now echoed through his mind. They were strangely reminiscent of words that were spoken on another summer night several years previous, the night that Lord Voldemort himself had risen again. Harry was sure this was no coincidence. Lucius Malfoy had been present that night. Harry decided he was going to demand a few answers.

"Just what is this all about?" he cried, meeting the older man's gaze. "What could you possibly want with us?"

"A very good question. It would be rude of me not to answer it. You see, since the Dark Lord's defeat, I've been doing quite a bit of research. I had access to his personal papers, and I've done some digging on my own. I believe I've discovered a way to actually _become_ the Dark Lord, or at least enough like him that it makes no difference. But in order to do that, I need a little help, and that is where you two come into the picture. You, Potter, still bear the mark the Dark Lord gave you as a child." Malfoy gestured towards Harry's forehead at this. "It is widely enough known by now that the Dark Lord transferred some of his powers to you the night of his first defeat. It might even be said you carry some of his very essence in you because of that."

Lucius Malfoy paused and gave a hollow laugh. "But I know something the Dark Lord never learned of in time to take advantage of it. I can use that knowledge become more powerful than he ever was. The Dark Lord used your blood, Potter, to re-embody himself, but he didn't know that he could have used your blood, as well as another's to become even stronger." Here he looked at Ginny. "Yes, the Dark Lord didn't know about your little episode with his diary. He didn't know that he'd once possessed you and so left a part of himself behind in you. He didn't know he'd forever marked you, even if that mark was invisible. I might have told him, but by the time he'd summoned me, it was too late. The magic had been performed, and the re-embodiment was complete."

"But you've already got a body," Harry interrupted. "You're not planning on boiling yourself in a cauldron, are you?"

Lucius Malfoy's eyes fairly bulged with anger. "Don't be obtuse. I do not need to use the same spell the Dark Lord used to re-embody himself. I have found another spell after many years of research. One that will allow me to extract the Dark Lord's essence from both of you and take his place. And by having the two of you available to me, I'll be all the stronger. Perhaps I'll even be invincible, who knows? But that won't matter to either of you, since I doubt either one of you will survive the extraction." Ginny gasped at this, drawing Malfoy's attention to her. "Don't fret, my dear. I won't kill you outright. I need you alive, at least at the start of the process."

Harry shivered, and he was fairly certain that the sensation of cold had nothing to do with fear. It was as if the temperature had suddenly dropped several degrees. He stole a glance over at Ginny and noted that her face wasn't expressing terror, at least. If anything, she looked defiant. 

"There's just one small matter we need to clear up first," Malfoy continued. "These spells are never straightforward. In this case, we need to determine who the master is, and to do that we need to duel." He turned to one of his followers in the semi-circle. "Untie the girl and give her back her wand."

Harry was struck again by the similarity of the words. Malfoy only confirmed this when he looked straight back at Harry and said, "it's just like a stroll down memory lane, isn't it?"

Harry struggled uselessly against his bonds, as Malfoy's follower moved to do his master's bidding. Harry thought it might have been Crabbe or Goyle based on the figure's hulking size, but the face was masked in the shadow of a hood. Another wave of cold passed through Harry like a knife, and he suddenly sensed a presence behind him. That was impossible, he thought, the tree was behind him. His hands were slowly going numb from the pressure of the bark biting into them. He was sure he was going to have trouble keeping a grip on his wand when his turn came to duel. What was going on? His attention was divided now between trying to work out who could be behind him and watching Ginny being led to face Malfoy. 

"Don't make any sign you hear me."

Harry started as a familiar voice seemed to come to him from inside the tree. He kept his eyes trained on Ginny.

"I think you may need this," drawled the voice again, and Harry felt a small object being pushed into his hands. He shuddered, as his hand suddenly felt like it was being plunged into ice at the ghostly contact.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry asked through clenched teeth. 

"Doing my best to make sure Lucius doesn't get what he wants," came Draco's reply. "You'd better use that."

Harry wanted to ask Draco how he even knew the pager might be of help, but there was no time now. Ginny and Lucius Malfoy had already bowed to each other and were facing off. Harry jumped as he saw Ginny dodge a curse. He pushed the button on the pager.

There was a sudden shout, as both Ginny and Lucius Malfoy shot simultaneous spells at each other. Then there was a collective gasp from the onlooking crowd, as the light from the embattled wands met and connected…

Harry immediately sensed what was happening, but his mind refused to credit it. Yet he could see both wands vibrating in the hands that held them, and he could see the light which connected the wands begin to change. But instead of turning golden, it began to flame. The flames shot into the air and came down in a circle around them.

"GINNY!" he shouted, not knowing if she could hear him. "DON'T BREAK THE CONNECTION!"

Somehow his mind registered the sound of popping in the trees nearby, but he ignored that for now. He kept his thought concentrated on Ginny, whom he could no longer see. She was engulfed in a curtain of flame.

__

Happy holidays to my readers, and I hope it won't be another month before I update. Please review.


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Light in the Distance

****

Chapter Sixteen: Light in the Distance

"But that won't matter either of you, since I doubt either one of you will survive the extraction." 

Lucius Malfoy's sneering voice washed over Ginny, his words drawing a gasp from her. He looked over to where she was bound to the tree, obviously thinking her reaction was one of fear, for he added, "don't fret, my dear. I won't kill you outright. I need you alive at least at the start of the process."

Ginny felt some sort of power awaken in her at his words. It was a completely foreign sensation to her, but it coursed through her veins, and her body fairly vibrated with it. Defiance rose in her, as she glared back at Lucius, who continued to elucidate his plan, ending with an order to untie her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw a hulking figure move to do its master's bidding. Her gaze remained riveted on Lucius Malfoy, and so she felt, rather than saw, the ropes around her loosen. She flexed her numbed hands a few times to try to bring the feeling back into them. An instant later her wand was thrust into her hand. Her fingers closed around it, and it seemed to warm to her touch. Once more she felt the strange sensation of power course through her as she stepped away from the tree. Where was it coming from? This was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, but it was feeding her confidence and keeping fear at bay.

She could sense the unseen eyes of all those in the semi-circle upon her, as she approached her enemy, but most especially, she could feel that Harry's gaze never left her. It bore into her back, almost as if there was an invisible link between them, and that connection was the source of the strange power thrumming through her. She did not turn to look at Harry; she did not need to. Instead, she focused on Lucius Malfoy's cold grey eyes as he stood before her, tall and threatening. Her face was set in determination as she bowed the slightest amount possible, her eyes never for an instant leaving his.

She straightened and raised her wand as if it were a slender steel blade ready to do battle. In the second before she cast her first spell, another surge of power ran through her, somehow warning her to dodge. She did not question the instinct; she simply obeyed, neatly leaping aside as her enemy shrieked "_crucio!_"in a venom-laced voice. The curse jolted the ground where she had been standing, singeing the grass at her feet but otherwise doing no harm. She turned now to release the disarming spell, but at the same time as she cried, "expelliarmus!", Lucius Malfoy shouted "stupefy!" twin jets of light erupted from their wands, rocketing with deadly accuracy towards each other, until they met, and time seemed to freeze.

Ginny's eyes widened in amazement at the single beam of light that now connected her wand to her enemy's. A tremor passed through her, as her wand began to vibrate in her hand, and she fought with all her strength to hold it still. For a moment she felt as if she'd stepped outside herself and could look down on the scene. A light seemed to be shining about her. Then the vision was gone, and she realised the light she'd seen was a dome of flames that had surrounded both her and Malfoy. A shout reached her ears, seemingly over a great distance, reverberating through her body, and that cry warned her not to break the connection.

Ginny's hand continued to vibrate, and she could see that the movement would quickly become tiring. The flames about her gave off a flickering light, enough to enable her to see Lucius Malfoy's face. He looked as surprised by the outcome of their duel as she felt. She could sense through their wands that he was struggling to master the situation, to take control and break the connection, but that knowledge only made her dig in her heels and fight harder. She knew instinctively that if the connection were broken, Lucius would gain the upper hand, and she could not let that happen.

Now there were small sparks of flame erupting along the beam of light between their wands. Sweat broke out on Ginny's forehead from the heat of the fire about her and the effort she expended as the sparks began to slide towards her as if they were beads on a wire. Something told her not to let the sparks come into contact with her wand. She concentrated with all her might, and slowly the sparks came to a halt, hesitated for an agonising moment, and began to slide the other way. She stole a glance up at her enemy, and saw him concentrating just as hard. She had an idea what had caused this; she remembered how Harry's wand had connected with Voldemort's because their wands were brothers. She found it very difficult to believe that her wand should be the brother of Lucius Malfoy's, however.

Ginny's arm was seizing up in her effort to hold her wand steady and maintain the connection. She had no clear idea how long they'd been standing deadlocked and engulfed in flames, but it seemed at once a very long time and a matter of mere seconds. The strange power was still running through her, steeling her mind to the task, but she felt as if her native strength would soon give out. The heat of the fire was not helping. Sweat ran down her face in rivulets. This was becoming a torture, and she did not know how much longer she could tolerate it.

Suddenly she felt relief from the heat, despite the fact that the flames about her had clearly not subsided. Just beyond Lucius Malfoy's grimly set face, she thought she saw something translucent and white. She reckoned she was hallucinating from the heat and the energy she was expending. She knew she was fast coming to the end of her inner resources. Her knees were buckling, and with one final effort she raised her wand to maintain the connection as she slowly sank towards the ground. 

It wasn't enough. Her arm fell at last, and the connection was broken. The flames around Ginny seemed to roar higher as Lucius Malfoy's eyes glittered in triumph, and he bent over her like a cloud to deliver his final stroke.

Ginny prepared herself for a blow that never fell. Lucius Malfoy suddenly tripped forward, nearly toppling onto her. With the last of her flagging strength she pointed her wand at him and croaked, "stupefy." Lucius Malfoy lay immobile on the ground before her, but the flames continued to burn. The world started to go black. Just before she fell face forward onto her enemy, she caught a final glimpse of white and recognised the ghostly face of Draco Malfoy.

**

Ginny awoke to a blinding whiteness. It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust, and then she realised it was a combination of bright sunlight and sterile white surroundings. She wondered how she came to be lying here. The last things she remembered were flames and darkness.

She turned her head on the pillow—the back of her head was oddly tender—and saw the faces of her family. Hermione was sitting closest to her looking very concerned. Next to her was Ron, who had an ugly-looking bruise on his cheek. Then came the twins. George had a bandage around his head, and Fred's arm was in a sling. Ginny stared at her brothers. All three of them looked as if they'd been in a fight. What had happened? How long had she been here?

Her gaze moved on to see Percy standing stiffly at the foot of her bed. Charlie was here, too, and her parents. Her mother put a hand to her throat and seemed to murmur some words of thanks. "At least I don't seem to be dead," Ginny mused to herself.

Molly reached for Ginny's hand. "How are you feeling, dear?"

Ginny grimaced and coughed before replying. "Sore. Where am I?" Her voice was hoarse.

"St. Mungo's"

"How did I get here? Last I remember…" She trailed off as she realised someone was missing. "Where's Harry?" she croaked in a louder voice than she'd intended.

"Now don't worry, dear. He's fine. He's been with you all night. He only just stepped out."

Ginny felt a wave of relief to learn that Harry was all right, but then another memory came to her, making her shiver suddenly. Simone had said… Ginny shook herself. She didn't want to think about that just now. Instead she thought of about a hundred other questions she wanted answered, but at that moment a white-robed matron bustled in and ushered everyone out of the room. 

She began to poke and prod Ginny, paying special attention to her throat, while asking her various questions. Then the matron helped Ginny to sit up so she could inspect the back of Ginny's head. There seemed to be a large bandage, which the matron removed in order to apply some sort of sticky salve. Ginny winced as the salve stung.

"What have I got wrong back there?" Ginny asked.

"You've got some nasty blistering," came the reply. "You're quite lucky it's not worse. Your hair was on fire, you know. Lucky for you, it was put out before it did worse damage."

Ginny gasped in shock and raised a hand to her shoulder. Where normally she should have touched her hair, her fingers found only the fabric of a night dress. Ginny moved to get out of bed. 

"And where do you think you're going?" asked the matron.

"To the loo."

Ginny got to her feet. Her legs felt shaky, but she forced herself to walk across the room to a likely-looking door. Once inside the toilet, she closed the door behind her and made herself look into the mirror.

She was a complete disaster. What was left of her hair curled wildly about her head in short, black-tipped clumps. Her face was drawn and greyish. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles. There were odd-looking bruises around her mouth; she could see similar marks on her wrists and realised they were rope burns. Simone's mocking voice echoed through her mind, and suddenly it was all too much. She swiped impatiently at the tears that began to flow. 

She turned on the tap and splashed water onto her face, when she heard voices outside the door. A moment later she realised it was Harry asking after her. She did not want him to see her like this. She stubbornly waited in the toilet, hoping he'd go away, but he did not. After a while she heard a soft knock on the door.

"Are you all right in there?"  


There was nothing for it. She had to answer. "Yes, I'll be out in a minute."

She took her time, trying to master herself, and splashed more water onto her face, hoping to hide the fact that she'd been crying. When she finally opened the door, she hardly had time to look at Harry before he caught her in his arms and held her close. The tears began again.

Ginny did not know how long he let her cry on his shoulder, his hands moving comfortingly over her back. At last she heard him murmur, "hush, love. It's over. Everything's going to be fine."

She stiffened at his words. She pulled back to stare at him, absently noting a few cuts and bruises around his face. "Is everything going to be fine?" The edge to her voice surprised her. She coughed again.

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't it?"  


Ginny pursed her lips. She didn't want to go into this now. Her head began to pound.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Harry insisted.

"Not now. Please."

If Harry was going to reply to this, he was interrupted. The matron was back, accompanied by a wizard.

"I am Dr. Murray," said the newcomer. "I'm a mediwizard. Can I have a look at your throat?" Dr. Murray paused here and inspected Ginny's throat using his lit wand tip. "You've got a nasty burn on the back of your head and some minor smoke inhalation, but nothing we can't heal. You don't seem to have any other injuries, beyond the shock of your ordeal. How are you feeling?"

Another bout of coughing seized her before she could reply. "I've got a sore throat and a headache."

"That's to be expected." Dr. Murray made a sign to the matron who left the room. "We'll keep you here overnight for observation, but I can see no reason why we can't release you in the morning. If you take things easy over the next few days, you should be as good as new in no time."

"Can I have my family back in here please?"

"Yes, as long as they don't over-tire you." The matron came back with a bottle of potion. "You need to take this to help heal your lungs. It may help your headache, as well; it's got a pain-killer in it. If you need anything else, just signal the matron."

Ginny climbed back into bed, as the mediwizard left. Harry was staring at her, questions evident in his expression. Ginny drank her potion. She wasn't going into all this now. And her family was filing back into her room. Harry would have to wait.

"What did the mediwizard say?" Ginny's mother asked almost immediately.

"I can go home tomorrow, but I need to rest." She looked over at her brothers. "It looks as if I won't be coming in to work for the rest of the week."

"That's okay, Gin," answered Fred. "We'll manage. Shop's closed today in any case, since we're all here."  


"Can I ask what happened after… I mean, how did you manage to find us and bring me here?" She looked expectantly at her brothers.

"Maybe Harry should tell it," Ron volunteered. "He's the one who paged us. And he pulled you out of the fire."  


Ginny met Harry's gaze across the room. He looked back at her steadily, but his face was set. She could see that one of his hands was thrust into his pocket where it seemed to be fingering something. Her eyes stung with fresh tears, and she stared at the ceiling for a long moment before speaking. "How could you have paged them? You didn't have your pager on you."

"Malfoy," Harry replied. Ginny's mother gasped, and other exclamations of surprise were heard. "Draco Malfoy," Harry clarified. "He's a ghost. I've seen him around, and he was there last night. He gave me my pager back, when they took you off to duel with his father." More exclamations followed this statement. Several of the Weasleys had obviously not heard the whole story. "He must have managed to make himself invisible," Harry continued. "Either that or he was _inside_ the tree. No one else seemed to see him."

"I saw him," Ginny interrupted. "At the end, before I blacked out. He was there in the fire with me. I think he must have done something to make his father trip. Lucius Malfoy was about to curse me, and he fell forward instead. That's when I saw Draco floating there. But what happened with our wands? Why did they connect like that?"

"They must have been brother wands like mine and Voldemort's."  


Ginny was about to protest that it didn't make a whole lot of sense that she, of all people, should possess the brother wand to Lucius Malfoy's But Hermione spoke up first. "That's not the only situation that could cause the wands to connect. I'm sure I've read something about that somewhere. I'd need to look in a few books to be sure."

"I can see you're planning on spending a nice, romantic evening curled up with your copy of _Hogwarts: A History_," Ron teased.

Hermione swatted at him, but Ginny could see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "As a matter of fact, I seem to remember about something like that in there. Perhaps if you'd bothered to read it, you'd know what I was talking about. It involved some sort of very old magic, though…" She trailed off and looked at Harry speculatively.

"I, for one, would like to hear the entire story from the beginning," put in Percy. "I feel like there's too many unanswered questions this way."

"I'm not sure that Ginny's up to this yet." For once, Ginny did not fault her mother for meddling. 

"Yes, can we leave this until tomorrow?" she agreed.

"We're going to have to ask that you and Harry come in to the Ministry as soon as possible and give us a sort of official statement," George said. "I think we'll be able to answer a few questions you might have as well. We need to piece together everything that's happened from the beginning. Do you think you'll be up to it tomorrow, Gin?"

Ginny didn't feel as if she'd ever really be up for it, but she agreed anyway. The sooner this business was out of the way the better. 

Her family seemed to take this a hint that it was time for them to leave. One by one, each member approached her with hugs and words of support. Her mother held her the longest, and when they broke apart, Ginny could see her wipe away a tear. "I know you're all grown up now, but if you want to come have a rest at home, you'll be more than welcome."

Ginny bit her lip. At the moment that offer was quite tempting to her. "I'll think about it, Mum." 

Soon she found herself alone with Harry. He didn't look as if he were ready to leave her just yet. He sat down in the chair Hermione had vacated and took her hand. "I think we need to talk," he said.

"I know we do, but I just can't face it right now."

"Ginny, something else has happened, I know it has."

"Tomorrow. I'll tell you tomorrow, I promise." She coughed some more.

He squeezed her hand. "You'll tell me when you're ready, I know that. But if I've learned anything, it's that putting it off will just make it harder in the end."  


Ginny knew he was right. She had hoped to prolong the denial a bit longer, but she could see now it wasn't to be. "Harry, we were set up," she blurted.

"I know that. That's how they caught me. They made it sound as if it would be an exchange: me for you."

"No, that's not what I mean. It was a set-up from the beginning. All the warnings, they were for a purpose. To bring us together. And it worked. They wanted to catch both of us, you most of all, but they didn't know where to find you. Your flat in London is too well hidden. By bringing us together it made you vulnerable and easier to find."

"How do you know all this?"

"Simone told me, before you were brought in."

"And you believe her?"

"I didn't want to, but the way she told it made too much sense. She took too much delight in telling me for it to be a lie."

"It doesn't change anything, Ginny. It doesn't make the smallest bit of difference in my feelings for you. They started long before this mess ever did."

Ginny shook her head. "I want to believe you, but it's so hard for me to. I'll always have this doubt in the back of my mind that we were thrown together by Lucius Malfoy. It puts a taint on it all. I hate feeling that way, but I can't help it."

Harry had gone white at her words. "What are you saying?" She saw him swallow. "Are you saying you want me to leave?"

"No!" It came out of her raw throat as a strange choking sound. "I don't want you to leave. I don't know what I want." A tear escaped and coursed down her cheek. Harry brushed it away with the pad of his thumb.

"You've just been through hell, Ginny. Maybe you were right, and we should have saved this for tomorrow."

Ginny smiled wanly through her tears. "Too late now."  


Harry got up and paced around the room for several minutes. It was beginning to grow dark already. Most of the day had passed before Ginny had woken up. "You'll have to tell me what I can do to convince you to trust me, because I have no idea at the moment," Harry said at last. "If you'd only tell me what I have to do, I'd do it."

Ginny didn't know how to answer him. At length Harry sat down by her bed again. "You know, Ginny," he said, "that very first night after Ron's wedding, I had every intention of asking you if I could see you again. In the end circumstances decided that for us, but the intention was still there."

"But we can't turn back time to that night now."

"No, but we can start over again. What do you say? If we date each other properly, you'll eventually see that I'm not planning on going anywhere." He reached over and caressed her cheek. "No rushing into anything this time. Are you willing to give that a try and see how it goes?"

For the first time since waking up, Ginny felt as if things were going to be all right. She nodded to him, and he moved to sit on her bed so he could gather her close.

"Maybe you should take your mother up on her offer and go stay at the Burrow for a few days," Harry said after a while. "I'd have been willing to stay with you at your house, but that sort of defeats the purpose now, doesn't it?"

"Would you mind terribly?"

"No, I can wait for you. I said I'd do whatever it takes, and I meant it." 

Ginny burrowed in closer and let him hold her. They only broke apart when they heard someone enter the room. The matron was back with a trolley, bringing Ginny her supper.

"Shall I leave now?" asked Harry.

"Only if you want to."

Harry stayed.

__

A/N: The title of this chapter is a line from "A Sort of Homecoming" by U2. The confrontation scene between Ginny and Lucius is based on a scene from J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings_. I meant this as a tribute. Fifty house points to anyone who can identify which scene from LOTR I'm basing it on… Thanks to Marian for suggesting the name of the doctor._

There's one chapter of this left plus an epilogue, I think… This was supposed to be the last chapter and it grew into two!


	17. Chapter 17: Past, Present and Future

****

Chapter Seventeen: Past, Present and Future

Ginny awoke suddenly; she'd heard a noise. Heart pounding, she sat up in bed, disoriented for a moment. She had to think about where she was, and then it came to her. This was Percy's old room. She'd been put here because her old bedroom didn't have any furniture in it; that was all at her house now.

Yesterday she'd been released from St. Mungo's. Harry had brought some clean clothes from her cottage, and they'd gone into the Ministry, where they'd spent a good part of the afternoon telling their version of the past weeks' events to Ron. He had used a Quick Quotes Quill, but an accurate one—he'd proven that to them before they'd got started—to take their statements. Afterwards, she'd gone back to her cottage and packed what she'd need for the next few days at the Burrow. And now she'd spent the night in the house she'd grown up in for the first time in over four years. It was both strange and familiar at the same time.

Ginny reached for her dressing gown and went to investigate the source of the noise. It had sounded like her mother screaming, but the scream hadn't been one of fright, it had been one of outrage.

She found her mother in the kitchen muttering to herself angrily. She looked up as Ginny came in.

"I'm sorry, dear, did I wake you? How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better. The night's sleep did me good. But what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, dear."

"Didn't I hear you shout?"

"It's nothing, really. What can I make you for breakfast?"

"Nothing, Mum. I'll get myself something in a minute." 

Ginny sat down at the table. Her father must have already gone into the Ministry. The day's owl post was lying on the table, and Ginny idly picked up the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_ which was amongst the letters. She didn't even have time to read the print on the cover before her mother distracted her.

"Do you want some tea? Oh, don't bother with that, dear."

Ginny looked at her mother in alarm. Molly had two pink spots standing out on her cheeks.

"Why not?" Ginny asked, looking at the cover. The main article seemed to be something about knitting. "What's it got in there now?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," her mother replied too quickly. She moved to take the magazine from Ginny's hand, but Ginny held fast.

"If there's nothing in there, then it won't do me any harm to look, will it?" Ginny had wondered how long she'd be able to remain under the same roof with her mother without getting into a row. She'd been there less than twenty-four hours, but she thought they'd been doing well up to now. Her mother had seemed to be making a great effort not to baby her.

Molly pursed her lips and did not reply. Her face was definitely redder now. Ginny began to page through the magazine. Her mother set a mug of tea in front of her, sloshing the hot liquid onto the table. Ginny pulled the magazine out of the way just in time. She looked at her mother speculatively. She was sure the tea had been spilled on purpose. Ginny sipped at her tea and continued to turn pages. Suddenly she felt her mother's presence behind her.

"It's a pity about your hair. We really need to do something about it," her mother said, as she ran her fingers along the side of Ginny's head. "It would be a shame to cut more of it off, but these burnt ends have got to go, and if we could even it out…"

"You can cut it after breakfast," Ginny replied, as much to get rid of her as anything else.

She turned another page, and she saw it. This was what had made her mother cry out earlier. Ginny stared at the small item in disbelief for a moment, before turning back to her mother.

"Mum," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "Did you go into Diagon Alley this week?"

Her mother gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes, dear, but really…"

"And did you meet anyone while you were there?"

"Well, I ran into Harry, but it was quite unexpected…"  


"Really, Mum," she said, no longer able to contain her laughter. "Isn't Dad enough for you? Do you have to go after my boyfriend too?"

"It's not funny!" her mother insisted.

"Of course it is. It's completely ridiculous!"

"You'd think they'd have some sense of decency. Honestly, I'm a respectable witch. How could they imply something like that, and with someone young enough to be my son! Humph…" She went on muttering under her breath.

Ginny shook her head but couldn't stop laughing. It had been quite a while, she realised, since she'd had anything to laugh about. 

"I have half a mind to go down to the _Witch Weekly_ office and tell them a thing or two," her mother burst out angrily.

"Why don't you do that, Mum?" She giggled. She knew Harry hadn't got anywhere with the _Witch Weekly_ people, but she wasn't so sure about her mother.

Ginny stood up to see about breakfast. Just some cereal would do. Her mother was still going on about the article under her breath.

"Do you see now, Mum?" she asked quietly, suddenly serious. "Do you see how they twist things to put them in the worst possible light?"

Her mother put a hand to her throat. "That poor boy! He's a saint for putting up with it."

"Yes, well, I think he mainly ignores it."

"That doesn't make it right."

"No, Mum, it doesn't."

**

That night at supper Ginny's father brought up the matter of her job at the Ministry.

"Now that the Ministry knows what was happening in your department, they're willing to lift your suspension," he said.

Ginny was surprised. "Already? I didn't think there'd be a report done up so quickly. I don't even know the whole story yet, and I was involved."

"I don't think your brothers have turned in any sort of report yet, but I think they have been in touch with the Improper Use of Magic Office and let them know you weren't responsible for the files that disappeared. With all that's been going on, I believe Ms. Hopkirk is taking an extended leave of absence. They're going to be needing qualified personnel in that office. You may even be able to work a promotion out of this." 

He sounded as if this should be a tempting offer, but to Ginny it wasn't. She'd had quite enough of that office, and even in a position of greater responsibility, she didn't think she'd like the hassle of having to train new recruits. She knew the busiest time of the year for that office was just starting.

"No offence, Dad, but I don't think I'll be going back there."

"Well, you weren't planning on making a career of selling joke items, were you?" put in her mother.

Ginny had a funny feeling she'd had this exact conversation before, and then she realised she had. Harry had asked her almost the same thing last week. She wondered why the same question from her mother annoyed her so much more. She knew her mother was motivated by concern for her, as Harry had been.

"No, Mum, I wasn't," she replied carefully, keeping her tone neutral.

"Then how were you planning on paying your rent? You know I've always said that Diggle character was charging you too much."

Ginny sighed. So much for peaceful recuperation at home. And they'd been doing so well up to now. What could have turned into a row over breakfast had been defused, but her mother had just touched on another sore subject. Luckily, her father came to the rescue.

"Molly, it isn't as if she's out of work. I'm sure there's something else available, Ginny, and you can stay on at the joke shop until you find something better."

Ginny smiled gratefully at her father. "Actually, Dad, I was wondering if there were any other openings at the Ministry. I wouldn't object to going back there, just not in the same department."

Her father sat back and thought for a moment. "I'll have to ask around. Maybe Percy knows about something in his department."

"No offence, Dad, but I really don't think I want to work for Percy."

A faint smile touched his features. "No, I suppose not. Is there any particular department you're interested in?"

"Well," she began, "I've been giving the matter some thought. Do you think you could get me into Magical Law Enforcement?" She went on quickly as her father raised his eyebrows. "Not as an Auror, or anything. It's just, well…" She wondered how to go on; then she had an idea, although she was sure her mother wasn't going to like it. "Have you seen today's issue of _Witch Weekly_?"

"Ginny!" Her mother was definitely not happy with this topic.

"No," her father said at the same time. "Why?"

Ginny dug out the issue and showed her father the item linking her mother and Harry. "Have a look at that. I ask you, is it fair that they can get away with that?"

Her mother was quietly fuming in her place at the table. Her father tried to look serious, but he seemed to be having difficulty. A smile was threatening to break out over his features. "Do you have anything you want to discuss with me, Molly?" he said at last.

"Now really! I don't think it's funny at all," she replied.

"It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Honestly, do you think anyone is going to believe this?"

"That's not the point, Dad," put in Ginny, "although it is rather funny. The point is, why are they allowed to get away with that? Why doesn't the wizarding community have laws against this sort of thing. The Muggles have them. Harry told me so."

At the mention of Muggles, her father perked up. "Is that so?" He sounded curious. "Perhaps it's something to look into."

"That's it, Dad. I think I'd like to get into Law Enforcement but on the side where the laws are made. Maybe something can actually be done about _Witch Weekly_."

"I'll have to ask around and see what's available. I can't promise you anything above entry-level, though, even with your Ministry experience. The salary won't likely be anything spectacular."

"It can't be much less than what I'm making at the joke shop. If you find anything, I'm interested."

Just then a noise came from the fireplace where Ron's head had appeared. "We were just wondering if you were finished supper," he called.

"Just about," answered Molly. "Why don't you and Hermione come over for pudding?"

"All right, then. Harry will be along with us, if that won't make too many."

"Not a problem, dear."

Two minutes later, three figures had Apparated into the kitchen. Molly was already bustling about the kitchen, making extra places at the table and putting on a pot of tea. Once everyone had partaken of an excellent treacle tart, Ron pushed back his chair. "Excellent tart, Mum. The reason we came over, though, is we need to talk to Ginny. All three of us."

"Why don't you take your tea into the living room, then. That way I won't be in your way."

Ginny saw Ron wince slightly. She was sure Hermione had given him a kick under the table. "Can't we help with the dishes, Mrs. Weasley?" she asked.

"That's quite all right, dear. I can manage. There's a good deal less here than when everyone was still at home."

Ron stood then and led the way into the living room. Ginny felt Harry's hand on the small of her back, as he followed her. She hadn't seen him since the Ministry yesterday. "How are you feeling?" She heard his voice in her ear.

"I'll be all right. What's all this about?"

"I think we're about to get an explanation."

"And Hermione is allowed to hear it?"

"Apparently so. Ron said she'd found something in her books."

They all took seats and looked at Ron expectantly. "I'm here to explain the whole story of what happened," he began. "This is taking into account the statements made at the Ministry yesterday, information we've been able to gather from Lucius Malfoy's followers, and what we've uncovered on our own."

Ginny felt nauseous as she remembered Richard Bradley. "What's happened to his followers?" she asked.

"We're almost positive we've caught them all. They're in holding at the Ministry awaiting trial. You and Harry will have to testify when the time comes, but we've got enough on them to put them in Azkaban for a good long time."

This news was a relief, but there was still one person unaccounted for in all this. "What about Lucius Malfoy himself? Why haven't you included his statements in all this?"

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. "Because," Harry said, "Lucius Malfoy didn't survive the fire."

"Oh," Ginny whispered. The treacle tart was suddenly weighing very heavily on her stomach. She might have been the one to die in that fire, after all. Harry, who was sitting beside her on the sofa, reached an arm around her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Basically, I had time to pull only one of you out. It wasn't a difficult decision to make, especially as his robes were already burning. I'm not certain he would have survived if I had been able to pull both of you out."

Ginny shuddered, and she felt Harry tighten his hold on her. 

"So," Ron continued. "This is what happened, as we have been able to ascertain it. This actually began long before our wedding day with Ginny merely doing her job. You sent official notices to two of Lucius Malfoy's followers. Now, at that time, Mafalda Hopkirk was acting under the Imperius Curse to cover up for their activities, but for some reason, she missed something, and Ginny sent those letters. Normally, this wouldn't have meant much to Lucius and his followers. The letters in themselves weren't really damning, since the infractions were so minor. It was the signature on those letters that drew their attention. It brought Ginny to their attention, and that was one of their goals: to find out where you were. That would have been easy to discover in any case, since they were watching your office, and you never had any reason to hide yourself as a minor employee of the Ministry.

"On the evening of our wedding, someone was sent to your cottage, Ginny. The goal was to capture you then, making it look as if you'd interrupted a robbery. But they didn't expect you to return accompanied, and certainly not with Harry. So instead of following through with the plan, the person who broke into your place Disapparated, and they stepped back and re-worked their plans.

"Their other target in this was Harry, but he was much harder to pin down. The location of his London flat isn't known to most people. His position in the wizarding world would make him difficult to quietly capture. He's under far too much scrutiny for that, and when he's not among wizards, it's as if he disappears. So when they saw they way things had shaped up at our wedding, they decided to manipulate the two of you to make it easier for them to catch both of you."

Ginny felt Harry's arm tighten around her once more at this. Ron had just voiced what had become an obstacle between them. She desperately wished this didn't bother her, but it still did.

"And so Ginny received warnings, things to scare her," Harry said. "It worked. It got me to move in with her. Hell, George all but suggested it himself. But they never manipulated my feelings."

"Be that as it may," Ron said, "they got what they wanted. Almost as soon as you'd moved in there they backed off the scare tactics. They simply waited until they could catch Ginny on her own and use her as bait to lure you in. And the rest you know from Lucius himself."

"Yes, he had some sort of plan to replace the Dark Lord," said Ginny. "He explained that bit to us. There's still one thing I don't understand in all this. Why did our wands connect? I can't have had the brother wand to Lucius Malfoy's. It just doesn't make sense."

"I don't know of any other way to explain it," said Ron.

"But I do." It was the first time Hermione had spoken since they'd entered the living room. Up until then, she'd been happy to sit and listen. "Your story in the hospital the other day struck me as familiar, and I went and looked up a thing or two. It seems that in the past this sort of thing has happened once before, and it's been documented. I don't suppose you remember Eulalia the Extremely Clever from History of Magic?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. "Which goblin rebellion are we talking about here?" asked Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's a wonder you ever passed your NEWT in that class. Ginny, do you know who I'm talking about?"

Ginny had to admit she didn't.

"Honestly!" Hermione sighed. "Eulalia wasn't a goblin, she was a witch. She lived at about the time Hogwarts was founded. She may even have studied under Rowena Ravenclaw herself. She was, by all accounts, a simply brilliant witch, and she was considered highly desirable. There were two young wizards who were rivals for her affections. She preferred one, but her parents wanted her to marry the other. Unfortunately for her, in those times the parents had as much say, if not more, than the girl did in choosing a husband. At any rate, she must have had a certain amount of influence on her father, because he agreed to let the matter be decided by a wizard's duel. But when Eulalia's suitors duelled, their wands would not work against each other; they connected even though they weren't brother wands."

Ron interrupted at this point. "This was all a thousand years ago. How do they know the wands weren't brothers?"

"Because it was so remarkable, it was documented. Brother wands meeting in a duel and connecting is a rare enough occurrence. The fact that two wands behaved this way even if they weren't brothers is all but unheard of. That's why the story is even documented."

"So what happened to make the wands connect?" asked Ginny.

"There was some other magic at work. Some sort of old magic. There's no spell specified, but it's certain there was some sort of protection spell at work. Eulalia had used something on the wizard she had chosen, and it helped him win the duel."

Ginny felt an odd shiver pass down her spine. "Harry used a protection spell on me," she said slowly.

Hermione looked at Harry. "Did you? I thought you must have. What did you use? Most protection spells are very tricky business."

Harry described the Holy Kiss spell to them, and how it had seemed a good thing to try, as it seemingly had no negative repercussions.

"Nice one, Harry," said Ron when he'd finished. "Trust you to find a good excuse for a snog session."

"No, it was legitimate," said Ginny. "I felt it, both when it was performed and the other night. There was some sort of strange power in me. That must have been it."

"Where did you find this spell, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"In a book in Hogwarts library." Harry paused as he tried to remember the title. "_Really Old Magic_ I think it was , by something An-, Anti-"

"Methuselah Antiquas?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Hmmm." Hermione gave him a searching look. "Well, all's well that ends well, but you want to be careful with Antiquas. He can be a shoddy researcher. There's usually more to his spells than he says…"  


"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Harry sounding alarmed.

"Just what I said. There's more to this spell than we know. But don't sorry, no harm's been done to Ginny by it. If anything, it saved both of you. Let me see what else I can find out. I'll let you know."

Ron got out of his seat. "I think that about covers it then."

"Wait, Ron," said Hermione. "Before we go, I have something for Ginny." She pulled a small flask out of her bag. "How is the burn on your head healing?"

The bandages had been removed before Ginny had been released from St. Mungo's. The salve that had been used had been very effective.

"It's much better now, thanks. Whatever they used on it cleared the blistering right up."

"Then you should be all right to take this," said Hermione, indicating the flask. "It will make your hair grow back faster. You want to be careful with it, though. It will make _all_ your hair grow, not just what's on your head. It'll work on your fingernails and toenails, too, if you take too much at once. If you use it sparingly, you should be all right."

Ron was snickering behind his hand. "Oh, won't that be attractive? Imagine the eyebrows you could grow, Gin."

"Shut it, or I'll make sure I grow claws to rival Crookshanks'."

Ron and Hermione said good night to the elder Weasleys before Disapparating home. Harry, on the other hand, showed no inclination to leave straight away, and Ginny was just as glad.

"How are you, really?" he asked when Ron and Hermione had gone.

"I'll live. I'm fine, really. As long as I don't get into a row with Mum, I'll be well-rested and ready to go back to work on Monday."

"And how are you managing with your mum?"

Ginny laughed. "We're both on our best behaviour so far. Although there was the _Witch Weekly_ incident this morning."

"What _Witch Weekly_ incident?"

"There's new gossip about you; didn't you know?" Harry shook his head. "Apparently you've thrown me over for my mother. There was a picture of the two of you at Florian Fortescue's and everything." Ginny put on her best wide-eyed innocent tone, and Harry burst out laughing.

"And how is your father taking the news?"

"Oh, I think he's making plans to run off with Mandy Brocklehurst one of these days."

They laughed together over the idea until Harry stopped suddenly and looked at her intently. Ginny felt the smile melt away from her face.

"What?"

"Everything is not all right with you." He seemed to be looking straight through her. "Ginny, I've been there. I know. Talk to me, please."

Ginny blinked hard, determined not to cry in front of him again. Why did he have to see her so clearly? She'd been doing this all day: laughing at things until it sounded false even to her own ears, and yet he was the only one who saw through the facade.

"I almost died, Harry." It was the first time she'd said it aloud. "You saved me again, and now I'm in your debt."

"No. Don't ever look at it that way. I don't. Besides you heard Hermione. The spell saved us both."

"Only because Malfoy chose me to duel first. If he'd chosen you, it all would have worked out differently."

"He was never going to choose me first. He took you because he was expecting to dispose of you easily. Then I would have had to watch you die, and he was hoping to shake me with that so I would lose to him as well. So the spell did save us by throwing a spanner into the works."

"I suppose so, but you still pulled me out of the fire."  


"What else would I have done? If you want, I can argue that I'd never have been in a position to do that if it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy. How do you feel about owing your life to a ghost?"

"In a way I do anyway. He helped me when his father was about to do me in. Why did he help us? He always hated you at school, and he never hid his feelings about my family."

"I think he hated his father more at that point. Think about it. It can't be very pleasant being a ghost, and his father damned him to eternity in that condition."

Ginny cuddled close to him and fell silent. He held her for a while, rubbing her back and planting an occasional kiss on her brow. She felt as if she could sit like this with him forever, but at last it was time for him to go. He gently disengaged himself. "I'll come by tomorrow, if you like," he said before kissing her softly on the lips.

Ginny nodded and hugged him close. An instant later he Disapparated.

**

Ginny went back to her cottage on Sunday, feeling rested but not particularly happy about having to stay by herself. The place seemed rather empty now. She was wondering what she was going to do about supper, since the last groceries she'd bought had never made it into the house, when she heard a knock at her door. She hesitated before opening it, finally asking, "who's there?"

"It's Hermione," came the answer. Ginny opened the door to see her sister-in-law standing there. Hermione peered into the house behind Ginny. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No. What would you be interrupting?"

"Well, I assumed Harry would be here…"

"No, he's moved back to London. Why don't you come in?" She motioned Hermione inside. "I've just got back here myself. I don't have much in the way of food in the house, but I can get you a cup of tea if you like."

"No, thanks," she said as she took a seat. "I've just spent the afternoon in the Hogwarts library. I thought Harry would be here so I could tell the both of you together. I thought he'd moved in here with you."

"That was only while the threats were going on. He's back in London. It's better this way, really."

Hermione looked surprised. "What happened?"

"You heard Ron the other night. The whole thing was a set-up."

"I heard Harry say his feelings weren't manipulated. And for what it's worth, I believe him. I've known him well for over ten years now, and I've never seen him like this over anyone. And if that weren't enough, there's the matter of this protection spell."

"What did you find out?"

"Not as much as I'd have liked, actually. Harry really managed to find something obscure. I couldn't find mention of it in any book other than the one he found it in, which means we're stuck with the opinion of one author. But…" She paused here for a moment. "I don't suppose Harry read the introduction to that book."

Ginny thought back to the day they'd found the spell. "I have no idea. We were both paging through books looking for something likely. If there was anything more than what was on the page he showed me, I never saw it."

"Do you remember there being some sort of bond required?"

Ginny nodded. "I even asked him what the bond between us was, and he said something about the Chamber of Secrets incident being enough."

"Yes, well it had to be more than that for the spell to have worked the way it did. That spell belongs to a category of spells that require a bond between the two people involved. The stronger the bond, the more likely it is the spell will work. And for the spell to have worked on the scale it did with you, I think there's only one possible bond at work here: true love."

Ginny was stunned. "But he… we…"

"It doesn't have to be declared for it to be real and present. There's no other explanation that I can see. Your wand connecting with Lucius Malfoy's without their sharing a core is an extremely rare occurrence. I don't think it's happened in the thousand years since it happened in the Eulalia story. If that's not a miracle, I don't know what is. For that spell to have worked on that scale, it had to be based on the strongest bond there is."

Ginny was glad she was sitting down, because she suddenly felt weak. This information was completely overwhelming her.

But Hermione wasn't finished yet. "The other aspect of a spell like this is, it reflects back on those involved. Its casting serves to strengthen whatever bond there is between you."

"So what you're saying is," Ginny said slowly, "that for the spell to have worked in the first place, Harry had to love me, and the fact that he cast it on me only strengthened that love?"

"Yes, exactly."

She thought back with a small thrill of horror at the things she'd said to Harry the other day in the hospital. She realised now that at least part of what she'd said had been a result of the trauma she'd experienced. She hadn't exactly had a clear head that day. "I'm sorry, Hermione, this is all a bit much for me to take in right now."

"Don't you love Harry in return?"

"Yes, of course I do, but I've about sent him packing, because I thought we'd been manipulated into thinking our feelings were more than they were." Ginny buried her face in her hands.

Hermione was shaking her head. "Harry's feelings had to be true for the spell to have worked. No one could have forced that onto him."

"I realise that now. It's just that… I feel like a complete idiot for doubting him. And he knows nothing about all this?"

"I've come directly from the library. I thought he'd be here, and I'd tell you both together."

"I need to tell him about this, and then I need to make it up to him. Somehow."

"Ginny, you've both been through a traumatic experience. If anyone understands what you're going through, he does."

"I know. He's been nothing but patient with me through all this."

"It's because he knows. He knows you need time to come to terms with it all. Let him help you. Lean on him. He wants to be there for you. Let him."

Ginny knew Hermione was right, but she'd been doing everything on her own for so long now, she wasn't sure if she remembered how to let someone else shoulder the burden with her. But it would feel good to lay it down for a while. Ginny nodded at her sister-in-law. "I'll try," she said.

"Are you going to be all right by yourself here?"

"Yes. It's something else I'll have to get used to. Best to face it head on."

"If you're sure, then. I really do need to get home." She gave Ginny a quick hug before going to the door. "If you need anything, you know where to find us."

Ginny saw her out and then went back to sit in the living room. She had a lot to think about.

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A/N: This is the last chapter. Epilogue to come. Please review. Oh, and the Tolkien tribute scene in last chapter was based on Eowyn and the Nazgul's battle.


	18. Epilogue: Just Desserts

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Epilogue : Just Desserts

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July 31

Ginny hurried through the crowds in Diagon Alley, heading towards the apothecary. She was on her lunch hour, and time was limited before she had to get back to work. She wanted to seek Hermione's advice on the perfect birthday present for Harry. She'd been all over Diagon Alley already and still had no idea what to get him.

More than three weeks had past since she'd returned to her cottage. It seemed so empty now, but she'd managed to get used to it. She hadn't been able to see as much of Harry as she'd have liked. She'd told him about the consequences of the protection spell as soon as she'd had a chance. If he'd been surprised to learn of the scale on which the spell had worked, he hadn't shown it. He'd merely said it didn't change his feelings one way or another. At the time she hadn't pursued the issue, because she didn't know what to make of his reaction. Upon reflection, she realised now what he'd been doing. He was still giving her space; he was waiting for the next move to come from her. In the mean time, they'd been doing just what he'd said they'd do: dating each other properly. Very properly. Too properly in Ginny's opinion. The time they'd spent living together had been very intense, and she was ready to experience more of that intensity. She'd invited him for dinner on Saturday to celebrate his birthday. That gave her two days to prepare.

She reached the apothecary, entered and had to wait her turn while the sales witch helped a customer select after-shave. Ginny didn't pay much attention to them at first, but then she noticed the man was insisting on after-shave that smelled of halibut, and the apothecary didn't seem to carry any. Time was running short for Ginny, so she finally interrupted. "Excuse me, but have you tried Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? I believe they carry quite a selection of, erm, interesting fragrances."

"Thank you, Miss," the man said to her, turning to leave. Ginny couldn't help but notice the man had a rather odd way of walking, but it seemed to do the job. He parted the crowd in the street quite easily with it.

Ginny turned back to the sales witch. "I'd like to see Hermione Granger Weasley, please."

"Just one moment." The sales witch returned shortly with Hermione.

"Ginny!" said Hermione. "I wasn't expecting you. What can I do for you?"

"I don't have a lot of time. I need to get back to the shop soon, but I need some advice."

"Come in the back where it's quieter, then." Hermione showed Ginny into the back of the shop where several cauldrons were bubbling away. There were various potions ingredients arranged in neat piles ready to be added at the appropriate moment.

Hermione reached out and touched Ginny's hair, which was now chin length. "I see that potion's working for you," she commented. 

"Oh yes, except now my hair's getting to a difficult length: too short to tie back and long enough to start getting in the way. But that's not what I've come to see you about. I want to get Harry the right birthday present, and I'm at a loss. I've been all over Diagon Alley."

"What about something Muggle?" Hermione suggested.

"I've thought of that, but I've not been out in Muggle London enough to know my way around."

"You've left it a bit late, as well."

"Not really. I've asked him to come round Saturday for supper."

"Well, you'll know his Quidditch team begins training tomorrow. That'll keep him busy on Saturday until fairly late in the day. We could go shopping then, if you like. I could take you."

"That would be wonderful!" Then Ginny's face fell. "Oh no, I have to work on Saturday."

"Ask for the day off. What good is working for your brothers if you can't get a day off here and there?"

"Yeah, you're right. Besides, they still owe me for a spate of merciless teasing a while back."

"If you made then pay for every time they teased you, you could ask for a good two months' paid holiday." Hermione laughed. 

"I'll let you know if I can't make it. Otherwise, I'll come round Saturday morning and we'll go. It'll give me the afternoon to get everything ready."

"Ooh, sounds serious."

Ginny grinned. "Oh, I certainly hope so."

Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion coming from the front of the shop. The sales witch could be heard accusing someone of shoplifting. "I'd better go see what that's about," said Hermione hurriedly.

Ginny followed her back into the front of the apothecary. "See you Saturday," she called, as Ginny went back out into Diagon Alley.

**

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August 2

Harry stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He'd just finished a grueling practise session, and he was tired. He was also sore from yesterday's workout. The team captain hadn't missed an opportunity to point out how soft he'd gone over the summer holiday. As he moved through the changing room, to where he'd left his clean clothes, he was greeted by various team mates.

"Fancy coming out for a drink, Potter?" asked one of the Beaters.

"You asking me out, Moore?" That got a general laugh. "Sorry, can't. I've got plans."

Ooh, Potter, hot date?" Moore returned loud enough to be heard in the adjacent women's changing room.

"Yeah, I suppose so. Just a bit of a belated birthday dinner, really."

His other male team mates were gathering around. "Who is she?" asked one of the Chasers.

"Don't think you'd know her, Gambolputty. She doesn't come to the matches."

"You hear that, boys? He ain't talking. Means it's serious," said Gambolputty. "Better watch out, Potter, or you'll find yourself attached, if you know what I mean."

"Wait a minute," said Moore. "Didn't I see something in the _Daily Prophet_ about you and some girl uncovering some sort of new bunch of Death Eaters?" It was obvious Moore didn't pay more than cursory attention to the news. There had been quite a lot about Lucius Malfoy's plots in the _Daily Prophet_. "Think I saw a picture. She's cute, Potter."

Oliver Wood came over and joined the group, still dripping from the shower. Harry was glad for the distraction he provided, as Moore now addressed him. "Hey, what about you, Wood? You coming out for a drink? As newest member of the team, you owe us a round." Oliver Wood had just been traded from Puddlemere.

"'Fraid I'll have to pass this time, although I'll pay for a round," he added hastily. Harry remembered when he'd first joined the team. The newest member was already a target for practical jokes, and refusing to buy a round would only make matters worse. But Wood had been in the league long enough to be aware of these things.

"Hey, maybe he's Potter's hot date," said Gambolputty, getting a laugh from the rest of the team.

Harry and Oliver looked at each other. "What do you think, Oliver, should we confess our sordid affair?"

"Nah, let's keep 'em guessing," replied Oliver.

Half an hour later, when everyone was dressed and leaving the changing room, Harry noticed Oliver Wood leaving with a vivacious blonde witch whose face he thought he recognised. For some reason she made him think of Ginny, and he wondered if she wasn't one of Ginny's old school friends. Then he put the matter out of his mind, as he Apparated to Hogsmeade, where he bought a bottle of wine before continuing on to Ginny's cottage.

He hesitated for a moment at the door, putting his hand in the pocket of his trousers to make sure he hadn't dropped anything on the way over. Then he knocked. Ginny answered the door presently with a smile on her face that could only be described as promising. Harry felt his throat go dry, as he took in her appearance. She was wearing the same dark green velvet dress she'd worn the night they'd gone to the theatre. Harry's hands itched to feel the texture of the fabric. He swallowed hard, knowing his resolve was going to be tested this evening.

"Evening," he said, handing her the bottle of wine he'd brought. "Hope this goes with dinner."

Ginny took the bottle from him and stepped closer to kiss his cheek, lingering over it. "Happy birthday, Harry," she whispered in his ear. He shivered. 

She took his hand and led him through to the kitchen. "I thought it would be nice to have dinner outside," Ginny informed him. "It's a lovely evening."

And so it was. The shadows were deepening over the garden, which looked different now from the first time Harry had seen it. The early summer flowers had given way to later-blooming varieties. The colours and scents were different, but it was no less beautiful. Ginny had brought her table out into the middle of it all, covering it with a pristine table cloth and setting it with expensive-looking crystal and china. Harry was sure she'd transfigured her ordinary dishes, since he was fairly sure she didn't own anything like this.

"Gin, you didn't have to go to all this trouble," Harry said, turning to her. She was opening the wine.

"Nonsense, Harry. I wanted to." She set the open bottle on the table to let it breathe, and then went to sit on the bench. Harry remembered it was the same spot she'd been sitting the first time he'd kissed her. "Aren't you going to sit down? You must be tired from training all day. Or don't they make you earn your salary?"

Harry laughed as he sat beside her. "I've only heard all day long how soft I've gone over the holiday."

He went on to tell her about his training and the Magpies' prospects. At one point, she poured them both a glass of wine, and eventually they moved to the table so she could serve dinner. Harry had become aware that she was consciously letting him go on about Quidditch, and he felt he ought to change the subject. "Dinner's delicious, Gin, but when did you have time to arrange for all this?"

"I didn't go in to work today," she said with a smile. "It helps to be related to your boss." 

Suddenly it seemed to Harry that she was brimming with a secret. "What have you got up your sleeve?"

"Nothing, just a bit of news. I won't be working at the joke shop much longer. Dad's got me a new position at the Ministry."

"Which department?"

"Magical Law Enforcement." He raised his eyebrows at her, and she hastened to add, "not as an Auror or anything. It's an office job, but it should have room for advancement. It's what I want."

"That's wonderful! When do you start?"

"A week from Monday. I only heard about this yesterday. I gave the twins my notice then."

"So we've got two things to celebrate then," Harry said, raising his glass to meet hers.

"Yeah," said Ginny impishly. "I've got a new job, and I won't have to work weekends anymore. I'll have my Saturdays free to set this place in order." She looked around the garden as she said this. Harry couldn't see anything particularly wrong with it.

"Perhaps you can use this, then." He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a piece of parchment.

"What's this?" Ginny asked curiously, as she unfolded the parchment.

"Season tickets to my Quidditch matches. I get free tickets for family, but seeing as I don't have any… Well, I've never really used them much. Only passed them to Ron a time or two when we were playing the Cannons. But if you'd like to use them…" 

Harry thought he heard a noise behind him but it was difficult to tell, because Ginny's reply covered it. "I'd love to, Harry."

"They're excellent seats, too…" He broke off as a definite rustling sound came from the bushes. He jumped up. "What was that? _Lumos!_" It was almost fully dark now, and Ginny had lit candles on the table.

Ginny was giggling at him. "Calm down, Harry. I expect it was just Norman."

Harry was pointing his lit wand into the bushes. He couldn't see anything. "Who's Norman?"

"He's a hedgehog. I found he'd taken up residence after I came back from staying at the Burrow. He quite likes it here I think. I decided to call him Norman."

Harry peered deeper into the bushes. He thought he saw two pinpoints of light shining back at him. "I suppose Norman is a better name than Pigwidgeon," he teased her, as he straightened up and took his seat once more.

"Watch what you say to me, or you won't get your presents." Ginny was failing to suppress a smile as she said this.

"All this and presents, too?" he asked, as he drained his glass.

"Only if you're good." Harry couldn't miss the seductive note that had now slipped into her tone, and he stifled the urge to choke on his wine. Instead he schooled his features into an expression of innocence. 

He looked at her expectantly, but she merely smiled and said, "dessert first." With a wave of her wand the remains of supper disappeared into the kitchen, and there appeared on the table a fancy cake decorated with whipped cream. Beside the cake was pitcher of some dark, thick sauce.

"Peach and almond gateau," Ginny announced, as she cut him a slice. Harry remembered she'd compared herself to that very confection at Ron and Hermione's wedding. She was reaching for the pitcher of sauce, and Harry was suddenly suspicious. She wouldn't, would she?

"Is that blueberry _coulis_?" he asked keeping his tone neutral.

A smile played at the corners of her mouth, and Harry was sure she was up to something. But she replied simply, "yes, it is."

"That doesn't come from your brothers' shop does it?" Now he couldn't the suspicion out of his voice.

"Why don't you try some and find out?"

He knew a challenge when he heard one. "All right then," he replied, not taking his eyes from hers. He wasn't about to back down now.

She doused his slice of cake liberally and then served herself. He watched her literally drown her cake with the sauce. Then she looked him straight in the eye and forked up a large bite of cake. Harry had no choice but to follow suit, his confidence growing as he continued to eat and nothing untoward happened.

Their dessert finished, Ginny waved her wand once more and banished the dirty dishes from sight. Then she pointed it towards the house and said, "_accio_." Two gift-wrapped boxes came through the window and landed in her lap. She was grinning at him now, and Harry was rather curious to find out what was in them, but he couldn't help feeling a certain amount of trepidation when he considered where she worked. He supposed any joke shop items could be put to good use on his team mates.

Ginny was considering the two boxes. "Hmmm, this one first, I think," she said, as she passed him the larger of the two.

Harry couldn't hold back his laughter when he saw what it contained. "Where did you find these?" he asked. "Certainly not Diagon Alley."

"No, I had to go to a Muggle for those. They don't have anything like that in Diagon Alley."

Harry wasn't sure he liked the idea of Ginny wandering around London on her own. He didn't want to say anything, but the concern must have shown on his face, for Ginny said, "don't worry, Hermione took me shopping this morning. She helped me find them."

"What?! You brought Hermione with you to buy me underwear?" He gestured at the pairs of tartan boxers in the box in an outraged manner.

"Oh course," Ginny replied in a perfectly innocent tone. "She needed to help me pick out the right size."

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock as Ginny dissolved into giggles. Once she'd brought her laughter under control, she said, "Don't look so shocked. You know I'm having you on. Are those all right? I didn't think you had that plaid."

Harry put on a mock-injured tone. "What did you do? Go through my things?"

"Of course not. I saw them in the laundry basket while you were staying here."

Harry was smiling. "Thanks, love. No, I don't have any like these, either."

He was more curious than ever now as to the contents of the second box. He was sure it was something from her brothers' shop. But Ginny was getting up from the table and coming over to him, one hand extended. He took it and let her lead the way back to the bench they'd been sitting on earlier. "This one," she said, once they were both seated, "is a bit less silly." She handed him a box whose cream coloured wrapping he recognised immediately.

"Belgian chocolates. Ginny…"

She cut him off. "You gave me these once as a peace offering. I'm only returning the favour."

"Ginny, you have nothing to apologise for."

She was holding his gaze so that he could not look away. "I feel I do. I'm sorry for not trusting you."

"Gin, it's all right. I understand, really."

"It's not all right yet, but it will be."

She reached up to him and brought his mouth down to hers. He could feel all her pent-up passion coming out in her kiss, as if a dam had burst, and for many uncounted minutes, he let his thoughts scatter, as he allowed himself to become lost in her. He felt her move closer, and he gave in to his earlier desire to touch the velvet of her dress, as he grasped her by the waist and pulled her fully into his lap. He groaned when her lips found his neck, but when her hands moved to his shirt buttons, he took her hands in his to stop her.

"Wait, love," he said, trying to catch his breath.

"What?" Her breathing was also ragged by now, and her eyes looked glazed.

He dropped one of her hands long enough to reach up and brush back the hair that was falling into her face. "What was in that sauce?"

"Nothing, Harry. We don't need it." She was leaning in to kiss him again. He let her have her way for a while, but he kept a firm grip on her hands. The way she was shifting in his lap alone was driving him mad.

"Ginny," he said, breaking them apart once again. "I need you to listen to me for a moment."

He waited until she was looking back at him with focused eyes. "You're serious," she whispered.

"I'm quite serious. I need for you to understand something. The next time we make love will be it for me. It may not be tonight, it may not be for months, it doesn't matter. But when it happens, it will be, for me, the seal on a lifetime commitment between the two of us. No more, no less. I need for you to understand and accept that before this goes any further."

She was staring at him, open-mouthed, slowly shaking her head incredulously. He knew a moment of panic, as he had in the hospital when he was sure she'd been about to send him packing. The only hope he'd had then as now had been Molly's words to him in Diagon Alley that Ginny had loved him forever. He wanted to believe that in this one instance, at least, her mother saw things more clearly than Ginny herself did.

Ginny was still staring at him, clearly at a loss for words. He tightened his grip on her, and he watched her look down at the cross formed by their joined hands, his right to her right and his left to her left. "Ginny, the way I see it, we already belong to each other. I can't promise I'll never hurt you or never make you angry or never burden you, but if I ever do, it will be unintentional. Do you believe me?"

He felt her squeeze back as she nodded. He thought her eyes might be over-bright with tears now, but he couldn't stop. He'd been waiting for over three weeks to say these things to her, and he needed to have it out in the open. "I want to be strong for you when you need me, I want to share my inspirations with you, I want to always hold the passion I feel for you in my heart, and I want to share all life's joys and fears with you. You and no one else."

She was crying in earnest now but silently. Harry leaned forward and kissed her brow. "Ginny we can make this official whenever you say."

"I love you, Harry. So much." She could manage no more than a whisper. "I've missed you. I want you to come back."

"Don't cry, love."

"I'm happy, really I am. I never thought this could ever happen. I feel like I'm dreaming, and I'm going to wake up and find it's not true."

Harry let go of her hands then. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and withdrew the small box he'd been carrying around with him. "Perhaps we need some tangible evidence then."

Ginny gasped when she saw what he was holding. He opened the box. Inside was a gold wedding band, finely etched with a Celtic design.

"If I wasn't in you hospital room when you woke up, it was because I'd gone to my Gringott's vault to get this. It was my mother's ring, and I'd like you to have it."

"How did you save that?"

"Dumbledore retrieved it and kept it safe for me. When he died, it was among his things with a message to restore it to me. I've kept it in my vault ever since. Will you wear it?" He picked up her left hand again and waited. He watched her swallow, as she stared down at the ring in his hand.

Finally she replied, "Yes, Harry, I'll wear it."

The upwelling of joy he felt at her assent almost overwhelmed him. He slid the ring onto her left hand, and then paused to stare into her eyes. "If you want a proper wedding, we'll have one whenever you say, but as far as I'm concerned, we're married as of tonight. He leaned in and tasted salt as his kissed the tears from her cheeks. Then his lips found hers, and the passion began to build between them again. When Ginny climbed out of his lap, and led him by the hand to her bedroom, he didn't do a thing to stop her.

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A/N: Here ends this story. I hope it's a satisfactory ending.

Monty Python has made a reappearance here in the epilogue. There were five references:

From the "After-shave Sketch": the customer looking for halibut after-shave and the shoplifter. Then there was a reference to silly walks again. The names Moore and Gambolputty come from "Dennis Moore" and the sketch about that German composer with the interminable name ("Johan Gambolputty… auf Ulm"). And finally there's Spiny Norman who has taken a liking to Ginny's garden.

The obligatory thank you section:

First to J. K. Rowling for inventing such wonderful characters to play with, thank you. You've provided me with many hours of entertainment, both reading your books and playing in your world.

Special heartfelt thanks to all those who helped me write this fic, because I didn't do it alone:

A, Alphie, Carrie, chryslin, Firebolt909, Harpinred, Imogen, and Marian.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed (up throught the last chapter) on Gryffindor Tower, Sugar Quill, the Queens of H/G list and fanfiction.net :

Aeryala, AgiVega, Alphie, AmandaSaturnVenus, Amen, ancarett, Angel, arne, ArtemisiaF, astarael, Aurora de la Noche, Ayleeandra, BabBlGrl, Baby Star, BBennett, Bela, bene elim, Blondie, BOFH, CaitlynMC, Carly, Carrie, chryslin, Condor5, Courtney, Critic Dude, delia, Desert Hacker, Deva55d, Disc Chick, Doctor Aicha, dodger, Dominion Jewel, Emeraldd Star, Evy, Firebolt909, Firoza, Gaela, Gert, Ginny Potter, Goggle Boy, goldenstar555, Gwenn, harpinred, Heather, Hermione Malfoy, Hildigunnur, Hoshino Kokoro, hpchica778, Imogen, jade, jen, jenlovesron, Jessika Organa Solo, Joc, Jose, Joyce2381, Julia Potter, juliavjay, Kassy, Kaylynne, Keith Fraser, Keri, Kiwi, Kjersti, KobeG, LaurenLiz, Lilifly, lilprincess12186, Lmic2001, Lone Wolf, LoverLain, maidmarian62, Makayla, malaleen, Manda Black, me, meg, Melissa, Michelle Ravel, Mistral Cat, Mollie, Nell de Montfort, NikNikolina, Niamh Griffin, oboe in disguise, Onedergirl, Pippy 182, PoppyP, Professor Jewels, Rayne, regina, Rhyannon, Rhyssa, Rika+Henry, RoswellML, SAngel, sorka robinton, spitfyre, Starbrite, Starbuckxs, Steal a Sock Steal a Heart, Stephanie was here, suki, The Soul Innocence, Thing1, Tinabelina, Tonia Barone, wendybird, Willow, wmlaw, WouldntULike2Know, Xavien, xx, Yolanda


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